Mass Effect: Aftermath
by Lilivati
Summary: A continuation of my Shepard's Mass Effect tale with a tweaked ending to the series, chronicling the aftermath of the battle for Earth, the fate of the galaxy, and the stories of Commander Shepard and her crew.  Spoiler warning applies.
1. Chapter 1

They were silent a long while, just watching Earth and the battlefield before them. Anderson's breath rasped in his lungs. Shepard could feel a hot squelch in her stomach, an eerie echo of her heartbeat, with every circuit of her blood. It should have hurt. Everything should have hurt- the bruises, the cuts, the burns that left her hard suit blackened and charred to her flesh- and she wondered if that part of her brain had closed its doors in the face of overstimulation, or if her nerve endings were simply gone.

Anderson cleared his throat, wetly. "You know, I never had a family. Children."

"Plenty of time for that yet, sir." Even to her own ears, her voice sounded like it was coming a long way off. She coughed. Blood speckled the floor.

A chuckle, ending in an audible wince. "I think that's a chance that's come and gone, Shepard." He turned his head a bit, propping his body against the platform. "What about you? You ever think of settling down?"

Two memories, in rapid succession. She was shocked to find she could still cry. There was little shame in it, and little passion. Just twin tracks of water navigating the fresh cuts and cybernetic scarring until they found her neck, disappearing into the remnants of her suit. With a hopeless little laugh, she said, "You know, I told Kaidan I wanted to retire."

"That so?"

"Yeah. We were going to buy a nice little ship." She twisted her head and met his eyes, beyond good soldier bravado or concealment, without even the strength for a sob. "I'm just so goddamn tired."

He closed his hand around hers. "Tell me about it."

"We've spent our lives crossing the galaxy, and we've dwelled so long on the parts that are torn apart, bleeding. We thought maybe it was time to see the rest. Figure out what we've been fighting for this whole time." Another cough, stickier. "We never really had a chance to…just be together."

"I know." There was more empathy in his craggy face than she ever expected to see, and she knew at that moment he was thinking of Sanders. "I'm happy for you."

Shepard half-smiled, despite herself. "What, you're not going to bust my ass for breaking regs?"

Anderson wheezed a laugh. "Maybe sometimes regs are meant to be broken. Or maybe I'm just getting soft in my age."

"Settling down… I don't know. Hell, my body was a wreck even before all this. I don't know if… Doubt I'd be any good at it anyway."

"Sure you'd be." He squeezed her hand. "Just think how proud your kid would be to have Commander Shepard for a mother."

"I don't know. Not everything I've done is something to be proud of." She hesitated. Hell with it. They were sitting at the end of the world. "Between you, me, and the sky, sir? I'd sure have liked the chance to find out."

"You'll get it. We're not done yet."

She let the pleasant lie slide. Her suit was getting slick around the side, blood pooling between the shell and the skin. Her hand pressed harder against the wound with ingrained futility. Anderson's head was drooping now. She could barely make out his half-lidded eyes beneath the baseball cap.

"You did good, kid. You did real good," he whispered. "I'm proud of you."

She swallowed. "Thank you, sir."

His head fell another inch forward, and his hand went slack on hers. "Anderson? Stay with me…"

Shepard sat up a bit, as much as she could manage. "Anderson?"

There was no response. _Dammit._ She looked down at her other hand, tacky with blood, and slid down the platform. There wasn't even enough energy to wonder if they'd find her before she bled out. Her medigel dispensers were fried.

Black crowded the edges of her vision. The bone-weariness of her body welcomed it, even as her mind tried to sound a critical alarm, swiftly overruled.

Then the com crackled to life. "Shepard, are you there?"

Something too deep inside her to turn off snapped to attention. Her old sergeant back in basic would be proud. Shepard struggled, and failed, to find her feet. "I'm- wha- what do you need?"

Hackett continued impatiently. "There's something wrong. The crucible isn't firing. It has to be on your end. Can you see the problem?"

"I- uhg-" Shepard fell forward, and began hauling herself across the floor towards the console with one arm. Blood smeared the white floor behind her. "I can't-"

She flailed for the hepatic keys, her reach not quite enough, and a part of her laughed, hysterical. _For the first time in forever, I'm actually __**too short**__. _

"Shepard, do you read?"

She groaned, tried to push herself higher. "I don't know how-"

"The engineers are saying there's a final connection that needs to be made. The center needs to seal to the Crucible."

"I can't see-" Her hand managed to pass through the console. Nothing happened. Shepard collapsed, at the end of all strength. "I'm sorry."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

She was back in the forest. No weapons this time, the lack of their weight unfamiliar on her back, and her armor was stiff, unresponsive, hard to move. Shepard stumbled forward a few steps. Laughter, childlike, echoed through the trees, but it was too late. She couldn't make out the boy.

Another step. A root lashed out of the ground and she fell to her knees with an unspeakable tide of shame and grief. "I'm so sorry-"

Then a hand clad in white armor appeared in front of her face. "Get up, soldier."

She looked up into Ash's brown eyes with a sense of disbelief. Ash wasn't smiling. "I said get up. I didn't give my life for you to fail us all now."

Shepard allowed Chief Williams to haul her to her feet. Ash fussed a bit, brushing dirt and a stray leaf off the ruined hard suit. "Am I dead?"

"Were you dead before?" Ash raised an eyebrow. "_Do not stand at my grave and weep / I am not there. I do not sleep._"

"I always liked that one. Maybe they can write it on Earth." She sighed. "I'm dying, Ash. I can't even lift my own head."

"Yes, you can."

"I can't." All her grief and exhaustion and rage were channeled into that one syllable. It rocketed through the wood like a gunshot. "It's too much."

"Don't tell me that." Ash glared at her with crossed arms. "You're Commander _fucking _Shepard. Your destiny is to do what no one else could. You're going to tell me fate is an illusion. You're going to tell me, even, that this was always too big a thing to do for the right reasons, that you were just trying to get from one crisis to the next and spare the people around you."

"Yes."

"The people around you are _dying_, Shepard. Garrus and Javik are probably already dead. Anderson is dead. Miranda, Zaeed, Mordin, Legion- they're all dead. Jacob told you the truth. The _Normandy _is your family, and what's left of it is dying, on Earth, giving their lives to buy you time. Tali will never build her house. All that will remain of Liara is her box, waiting quietly among the stars. Wrex will never hold his firstborn. James-"

"They made their choices," Shepard cut in, harshly. "They bet on the wrong woman. I'm sorry for that but it's not my fault."

"Shepard- _Kaidan is dying_." Ash stepped forward, cupping her face in both her hands, searchingly. "Do you think I don't know why you turned back for him, on Virmire? It was the right choice. Not because he was the superior officer, not because his expertise was irreplaceable, but because _you _needed _him, _to get you through this mess, and you were always the only one with a snowball's chance in hell of pulling this off. _You _had the vision. _You _had the cipher. Maybe it could've been someone else, but the galaxy placed all its bets on you, back on Eden Prime. You didn't ask for it, but life isn't about fair. People get what they get. It took someone with even more cause to be angry with the universe to teach you that and you never listened."

Shepard tried to turn away. Ash yanked her gaze back, ruthlessly. "_Look _at me."

And Shepard looked, down into the depths of her eyes, where she saw the nuclear apocalypse of Virmire, the first gasp of light as she came back into being in Miranda's lab, the death moans of the human reaper, the flames engulfing Earth. One by one, Ash showed her the future. She couldn't turn away. She saw their deaths as she'd seen their lives, aboard her ship, under her command. Her protection.

At the end of it, Ash released her, and quoted from the end of the poem. "_Do not stand at my grave and cry._"

Ash was giving her a quizzical stare. Shepard licked her lips, and found her voice. "_I am not there._"

_I do not die._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

She picked her head up off the floor. Hackett was screaming frantically through the com, trying to raise her. With almost unimaginable will and slowness, she got one of her knees under her body, and levered herself to squatting height. It was just enough to see the interface.

The problem was obvious. So simple a child could have pieced it together. She hit the toggles and extended the bridge.

Immediately, the whole Citadel thrummed with energy. She could feel it coiling around her, flooding her cybernetics, tracing her nerves real and artificial with incandescent fire. _I guess they're still here after all_.

Then there was a moment of stillness. The whole universe held its breath.

The torrent unleashed sent the Citadel into a recoil that knocked Shepard to the floor and threatened to cast her off the platform altogether. Her body caught against Anderson's. There was shouting over the com. Then, only merciful blackness.

_Mission complete._


	2. Chapter 2

"I had nightmares about this for six months after Nathaly died," Major Alenko said abruptly. "Combing the wreckage of the SR1, looking for answers and not finding any."

Lietenant Cortez glanced away from the Kodiak's window to the co-pilot seat. It was the most Alenko had said in the past fifteen hours. The spectre was staring out at the remains of the Citadel. Acting as the trigger for the Crucible proved too great a strain, and the massive station disintegrated into thousands of pieces. They were only one of hundreds of ships searching the wreckage. The Citadel was home to millions and the Reapers only had possession of it for a few days, not nearly enough time to process all those aboard. "I guess this all feels like the worst kind of déjà vu."

"Yeah." His arms were crossed over his chest, without expression. It was worse than déjà vu. Alenko felt trapped, condemned to repeat this horrifying exercise for as long as he lived.

Cortez was speaking again. "The commander and I had a long talk, back on the Normandy. I asked her about the collector ship. I needed to understand what happened to Robert, you know? She told me I didn't want to hear it, but I insisted. It was as awful as she claimed… better than not knowing, though. Bad closure is better than none."

"_There's so much I want to say…if this is the end…"_

"_Don't talk like that." _

_Her expression was almost offended, and strained, the same as it had looked since Sanctuary. She'd borne the brunt of this war for too long, and was so close to breaking you could almost watch it happening. It didn't matter how badly he needed to say goodbye. She couldn't hear it right now. _

_So he chose the words she needed instead. Hopeful. Empty, lies as they fell from his mouth, but she was not in a place where anything short of optimism would help. Both of them crying and pretending not to for the other's sake. He leaned his forehead against hers. "You know I'll fight for a chance to hold you again."_

"Major?" Cortez was giving him a funny look.

"Sorry. Thinking." He cleared his throat. "What is it?"

"Picked something up on the scanner here." Cortez gestured at the instruments. After they watched the Citadel splinter from the ground, and finally got Hackett on the com long enough to confirm Shepard's whereabouts were unknown, they agreed the most likely place to find her body was the remnants of the Presidium spire. The Crucible had docked at its bottom. "It's more cylindrical than most of the pieces. Might be worth checking out."

Alenko leaned forward. "Take us in."

"Right." Cortez guided the shuttle out of its slow looping path, moving purposefully towards the object with as much speed as was wise in an uncharted debris field. "I'm surprised Joker's not up here with us."

"I'm not," Alenko said shortly. "I'm not sure the Normandy is even spaceworthy at the moment."

"Yeah. Shame about EDI. She might've been a synthetic, but I always liked her."

"Joker liked her a little more than you, I think." He was at a loss to describe that particular relationship. Joker was always a little strange, and while Alenko liked EDI well enough, it always seemed like that was a gulf too far for even someone like Joker to cross. But who was he to judge? Joker's pain was real enough.

Cortez sighed, and banked around a twisted support strut spinning gently in orbit. "Everyone's lost someone. It might help to talk about it."

"What's there to say?" Alenko sat back again, resuming a waiting posture.

_The feel of his hand over her hand against his cheek. "I love you. It's always been you."_

"Shepard of all people wouldn't want you doing this to yourself, man."

"Don't you tell me what she would have wanted." He spat the words like venom. "You knew her for what, six months at the outside? Sure, she coddled you through your problems, she's good at that, but don't sit there and talk like you knew her."

Cortez's tone soured. "Is that why you left her on Horizon? Because you knew her so well?"

Most of the crew weren't part of the Cerberus days, but the ones who were, Tali especially, didn't hesitate to shop that story around. Nobody was particularly happy at first to see him come aboard. "It was complicated."

"Sure." His voice oozed contempt.

Alenko turned to face him. "Tell me one other person who was literally raised from the dead. What was I supposed to think? Either she was lying and had been lying to me for two years, or she was telling the truth and who knew what Cerberus did to her while they were inside her head, waking her up. You weren't there. You don't know what Cerberus put both of us through."

_The log played out across the screen. Nathaly's visceral horror. EDI's silence. She vomited against the wall. He put a hand on her back. "Hey, it's ok."_

_The terror in her voice as she heaved. "What if- what if I'm just some complicated VI, running in my head, thinking it's Commander Shepard?"_

_He calculated bullet trajectories to the Illusive Man's heart. "You're real enough for me."_

Cortez clearly hadn't expected such a hostile response. "I didn't mean-"

"I think I've paid for that one enough times over." He faced forward again. "Let's just get this over with. Please."

Cortez addressed his instruments sullenly. "Yes, sir."

The approach was uneventful. Alenko grew more anxious as it became apparent this was the part of the station they sought. Two of the braces and part of the great wheel used to dock the Crucible were still attached, the whole of it revolving slowly about its center of mass. This section would have taken the brunt of the shot as a direct thrust backwards, with little shear. Only when the arms detached did it gain any spin.

It was near the heart of the wreckage. They were sol-side now in orbit, and all around it, shards of the Citadel glittered like stars. Alenko could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "Can you see anywhere to land?"

"I'm hoping if I come around the back, the docking station might still be intact- or at least, intact enough to give us a flat surface."

Space was always silent. Ships were not, but the Kodiak's eezo core was top-of-the-line and made barely as whisper as they cut through the void. Cortez set down next to a hatch. There was the momentary disorientation of walking upsidedown as they stepped out, helmets pointed towards the Earth, but magboots and experience soon took over. Alenko shot open the control panel and bent to mess with the circuitry.

"Can't you just override it?"

He shook his head. "Central security's fried. The system doesn't know a spectre from a thief. Assuming this door was ever on central security, which I find unlikely."

"How does something like this go unnoticed for so long?" Cortez wondered.

"How did we overlook the keepers' activities for so long?" Alenko shrugged. "Over the last few years of Citadel revelations, I'm almost of the belief that we know and notice exactly as much as it wants."

"You talk about it like it's some kind of AI."

"Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just so ancient, full of so many civilizations' imprints and secrets, that it's taken on an entirely new form of life."

"Sounds almost like those Gaia cultists."

"Maybe." His mouth twitched at a corner. "You ever hear of something called a thorian?"

Cortez shook his head. Alenko didn't elaborate, as the hatch went green and popped open with a puff of purged air. The pair climbed down the ladder and cycled the airlock, removing their helmets.

What they stepped into was nothing short of hell.

"Holy shit," Cortez breathed, half-gagging. The stench was overwhelming. The hall was lit like satan's seraglio, and decorated to match, with blood and more ghastly smears painting the walls and humans, parts of humans, piled against them like garbage. In the middle of it all stood a keeper, firmly on its four legs, calmly typing information into a console as though it were standing in a Presidium park. "Please tell me we don't have to sift through all these."

"She won't be down here," Alenko replied, trying not to look as unnerved as he felt. The keeper's motions of normalcy transported the scene from merely horrific to creepy as hell. "She made it further than this. We're looking for a central console."

They made their way through a door and up a ramp. The door at the top was wedged shut. "The motor's stalled. Here, give me a hand."

They began shoving at each side of the partially-cracked hatch. Cortez panted, "It's almost like there's something stuck in the track."

With a final heave and a sound of ripping cloth, the door gave way. A large object rolled out, tripping Alenko, and they both tumbled down several meters and landed in a heap. Alenko gave himself a shake and opened his eyes, only to find the Illusive Man's dead gaze staring back at him.

"What the hell is that? A body?" Cortez hauled him to his feet, and Alenko pretended he hadn't been on the verge of screaming like a small child in surprise.

He gave the corpse another glance. There was a clean shot through the breast, pistol fire. The man's skin was etched with indoctrination markings, but his face was oddly at peace. Half his jacket was torn off- likely what caught in the track. "Well, I guess we know what happened to that bastard. Better than he deserved."

"You said it, sir." Cortez chewed his lip. "Think it's Shepard's work?"

"I hope so. If anyone deserved to hold the gun, it's her."

"There's some kind of platform ahead. I might have seen a dead console."

Foreboding gripped him like a vise for a long moment before he found the strength to reply. "Thanks. Let's…see about it."

Every step was leaden. The hatch opened on a spacious room, lined with windows displaying a spectacular view of the fleet and the Earth below. The terminal at the far side was blackened and dead. Alenko could just make out a dark shape the size of a human head over the lip of a raised section in the middle of the floor, and for a second he couldn't breathe.

Cortez took up station respectfully beside the door, in the relaxed, waiting posture every soldier learned to hold for hours in basic training, letting him go on alone.

Alenko stood there a minute, steeling himself, then let out a breath and strode forward, almost hastily, needing to get past this one terrible moment as quickly as he could, like tearing off a bandage. He rounded the corner of the raised dais.

Anderson sat propped up against the edge. His chin rested on his chest as if he were only sleeping, cap brim drawn low. Crumpled across his legs, limbs askew, flung there like a doll, was Nathaly Shepard.

Alenko knelt and rolled her over on her back, as gently as he could. Her head lolled, her face almost unrecognizable beneath its patina of blood and soot-caked bruises. One eye was swollen almost shut. There was a plethora of fresh cuts, and the familiar puckered scarring of her cheeks was dull, lifeless, lacking the orange hum of the cybernetics that had so easily given away her moods, much to her irritation. Only the upturned nose, the generous mouth he knew so well, and the feathery strands of red hair were left to mark her identity.

When he first met her, she'd had long hair, for military life, always kept out of her face in a big messy bun. The collectors' attack fixed that. He brushed his hand over it, smoothing it against her forehead. _At least they didn't burn it all off this time, right, love? _She'd like that.

The N7 armor, the symbol of all her hard work, was blackened beyond repair. He wouldn't be surprised if it was fused to her flesh in places. A reaper beam? She'd been so damn proud of it. It was built with piezoelectric components intended for camouflage, but she simply set it to her favorite garish color and let it be recognizable. Shepard didn't hide who she was. Maybe that was what let her get under the skin of so many people, and do the impossible.

His fingers traced down the line of her jaw, bumping over the scars, cradling her in his lap. Shepard was at once embarrassed and proud of them. She liked that they marked her resurrection. As she put it, there should be some evidence that something happened instead of pretending death was like a vid paused in the middle. The experience haunted her. Shepard, who feared very little and even less often let it get in her way, despised scalpels and anesthetic. He'd watched Chakwas pull a bullet out of her shoulder with no more relief than the gritting of her teeth, because the pain was better than going back to that place, that table, in Cerberus' lab. Just another one of their many crimes.

Alenko curled one of her cold hands in his own, against her chest, feeling the strength of those long, slender fingers, not knowing what to say. His throat closed against the words, so many memories running through his mind he could scarcely parse them. Her climbing from the rubble of the battle with Sovereign. The bolt of lightening that shot through him when he saw her standing on Horizon, how he rushed to hold her before his brain interfered and fucked everything up- and finally finding strength to forgive each other months later. The way she felt when she fell asleep in his arms a few hours before they got to Ilos. Nothing about them was ever easy, and nothing about them was ever less than worth it.

He stared down at Shepard's broken form and tried to find the right way to say goodbye.

Then, in the silence of the chamber, he heard the very last thing he ever expected- the faintest of slight hisses of air.

Alenko blinked, and in a rush of hope and confusion and foolishness, stripped off his glove and pressed his fingers against her neck. Nothing. His heart sank back between his boots, but still, he laid her out on the floor, and called up his omnitool diagnostic. It was a simple matter to scan it over her body, still as it was, and an impatient minute passed as he waited for the results.

His eyes widened. "Cortez!"

There was a shuffling sound as Cortez pushed away from the wall. "Sir?"

"We need to call in a med pickup!" He began stripping the medigel out of his suit, clumsy in his haste, not even sure where to apply it, just needing to do something, anything to preserve the few faint signals of life registering on his omnitool.

"Don't do this, man." Cortez came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "She's gone. Don't be like this."

"Check her yourself." He ran to the hallway and began stripping the Illusive Man of his shirt and jacket.

Back on the platform, he heard Cortez exclaim, "No fucking way."

Alenko climbed back up the ramp and began bundling Shepard in the makeshift blanketing. Cortez linked into the Alliance com network. "This is Lieutenant Cortez of the Normandy requesting a medical pick-up in the Citadel wreckage ASAP. No more than two. Sending coordinates. Roger that."

Alenko jerked his head towards Anderson. "Check him too."

There was a brief glow as the omnitool did its work. "He's gone."

"That was too much to hope for, I guess." He ran the scan again, monitoring her thready and erratic pulse. It blinked across the hepatic display like a beacon. He glanced down at the prone woman and took her hand again. "Just hang on a little longer, Nathaly. Just a little longer. Help's coming."


	3. Chapter 3

Alenko barely looked up as Liara slipped into the room. "I guess your connections still work."

"Some of them." She tried a smile, quickly slipping away. "Enough to get me into orbit."

"Heh." He was leaning forward in the only chair the tiny intensive care unit offered, elbows on knees and hands tucked under his chin. The steady beep of the machinery monitoring Shepard's condition, and the monotonous drone of the vid com, filled the air.

Liara strayed a step closer and her eyes drifted to Shepard's bed. "How is she?"

"The same as when we spoke. She lost a lot of blood." He sat back and ran a hand over his hair tiredly. "The doctors told me she was lucky. The energy released when the Crucible fired fried half her cybernetic implants. One of them shorted out and cauterized her primary wound. A few more minutes and she wouldn't have had enough blood left to make it this far."

"It's a one in a million chance." Liara chuckled, more in astonishment than amusement. "That always was Shepard's style."

Alenko didn't join her. He ticked the problems off on his fingers. "She's got serious organ damage, and nerve damage, mostly from the way the implants backfired. They're trying to grow enough tissue cultures to patch the worst of it, and coax at least some of the cybernetics back into life, but there's a lot of triage still going on from the battle. Honestly, she'd be x-listed already, except she's…"

"Shepard," Liara finished, simply.

"Yeah."

She reached over and touched his arm. "Kaidan, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." He sighed. "I'm sorry I've been so… I know you care about her, too."

"No apologies are necessary. You're tired, and worried." Her expression was concerned. "How are you holding up? Have you eaten anything?"

"It's been a few days. I'm sure I must have…" Alenko rubbed his eyes. The medevac strapped Shepard into a cocoon and flew her to one of the Alliance dreadnoughts, to take advantage of its medical facilities. With Earth in its current state, these fully-equipped mobile hospitals were the best the Alliance had to offer. Even so, her team of doctors was discussing the need to access some of the lab facilities available on the asari ships. After Thessia he wasn't sure the asari would be open to granting the request. Hell, forget Thessia- nearly everyone in what passed for the asari military knew somebody on the Destiny Ascension.

"I'll get you something from the mess." Liara disappeared in a flash, before he could say he wasn't hungry.

He glanced at the vid com. They were running the same stories over and over in broadcast mode. Currently, it was a discussion of the problem with the mass relays. Alenko didn't have much knowledge of physics beyond the few entry-level courses required by his undergraduate program, fifteen years ago, but from what he gathered there was something about mass-energy equivalence and using the relays to carry the reaper-slaying beam across all connected systems. The crucible tried to force more energy/mass through the network than it could handle, leaving the relays severely damaged. It was unclear at this time if it would be safe to transport ships through the system without repairs. The assembled fleet was anxious to find out. With the crucible and citadel destroyed, it was vital they clear out any remaining reaper presence from systems lacking mass relays before the enemy could regroup. So far all that had gotten through were a few garbled transmissions.

Shepard was in the news cycle as well. Her survival, if you wanted to call it that, was being kept under wraps by Alliance brass. It was a good call. The last thing she needed right now was a crush of people trying to get into her room to snap a picture for their headline. The stories were mostly positive constructions of her heroism, but criticism was already creeping in, questioning her decisions, her Cerberus involvement, and why it had taken so long and so many lives to resolve this crisis. Those kinds of stories would explode once Sanctuary leaked. There were even a few biographic pieces from a handful of enterprising reporters trying to get a jump on the market.

He shook his head. The truth was somewhere in the gray, and he didn't think any of these talking heads had the context or knowledge to judge, anyway. Even now, with the devastation spelled out before them, few seemed to grasp the scale of this conflict. It simply defied the human mind.

Liara returned holding two styrofoam cups of chocolate ice cream. "It's later than I thought. Your ships are running on Earth time, not Citadel standard. All they had was what I could scavange from the freezer."

"Ships like this run three shifts. Wait another hour or two and they'll have a meal, if you want it." Alenko accepted the ice cream despite his lack of appetite. He took a tentative bite. Rations on the Normandy were, well, rations, and the Citadel was short on human food. This was the real thing, made from real milk from real cows. Liara smiled as he went for a second spoonful. "Thanks. It might be a long time before we're making ice cream again."

"I didn't think anything could be worse than Palaven. They must have really hated you."

"Nobody can piss someone off like Nathaly."

"She does like kicking the hornet's nest." Liara leaned against the bulkhead and tried her own spoonful. "This is…quite good."

"Asari don't have ice cream?"

"We have flavored ices, like humans, though we make them savory as well as sweet. We don't have an equivalent of your dairy products. No ice cream, no yogurt, no cheese. We never considered milk anything but a source of food for the infants of various species." She popped another bite into her mouth. "That may have been a mistake."

They ate in silence for several minutes. Shepard lay on her bed, head turned, eyes shut, mouth slightly open, as oblivious as any coma patient. Liara asked, "Why do you continue audial output of the monitoring systems? Surely her doctors will be alerted via omnitool should anything change."

Alenko looked over at the injured woman. They cleaned her up, leaving just the bruises, stitched-up cuts, and burns, swathed in white gauze to protect the ongoing skin grafts. Removing her armor alone had taken two surgeries. Shepard was a mess for certain, but she no longer looked dead, for which he was unimaginably grateful. Her skin was warm with transfused blood. "I like hearing it. It's…reassuring."

She tossed the styrofoam into the waste basket. "I won't disturb you further. If there's anything I can do, Kaidan-"

A thought sprang into his head. "Actually, I think there is."

"Name it."

"Do you think you could use your broker superpowers to raise Nathaly's mother? I've tried locating her on the com system but so far, no luck. Communications are still a mess. She should have come in with the engineers from the crucible project."

"It's Captain Hannah Shepard, yes?"

"Rear Admiral." He shrugged. "Wartime promotion. I guess it's harder to refuse in the face of the greatest enemy of your time."

"Admiral Shepard." Liara nodded. "I'll do my best, but my system took a hit as well."

"That's all I can ask."

Just as she turned to go, he said, "Hey. Liara."

"What?"

"Is the ground team holding up okay?"

She paused for thought. "Everyone's holding together. Anderson's death came as a shock. Everyone's still sad about EDI, and Garrus, though I would be lying if I said anyone missed Javik much. The mourning is likely just beginning."

"Garrus. Hell." Alenko shook his head, too worn out for any greater expression of grief. "It could've been me in that beam."

"Shepard kept you back because you were the best person to direct your biotic ops squad, and because if she failed she knew only another spectre would be able to take up the burden." Liara pursed her lips. "Did you truly believe those were her only reasons? Take care, Kaidan."

"You too, Liara. And thanks. For coming."

"Of course." She shut the door behind her, leaving Alenko alone with Shepard and her machines.


	4. Chapter 4

Weeks passed. It was strange what could grow normal. The survivors on Earth were mostly broken into large regional camps now, those who had no homes to reclaim, and while sanitation and food supplies remained a problem most hoped an end to the chaos was in sight. The bulk of the fleet had relocated to the Charon relay, to study the relay problem. They transferred Shepard to one of the dreadnoughts staying behind as a rear guard in case of another attack. Transmissions through the relay network had been prioritized to military needs only, and were being kept on tightly guarded channels, but Alenko surmised communication was improving. Parts of the reaper fleet remained unaccounted.

The lifeships of the quarian fleet so far were managing to keep quarians and turians alike fed, albeit on strict rations. The turians were planning a long FTL haul between their home systems and Sol to alleviate the situation, but the logistics and eezo requirements were harsh. The quarians had no such option. They were stranded the better part of sixty thousand light years from Rannoch and the remainder of their fleet. There were reports of unrest in the flotilla, resentment towards the humans and Earth, but so far nothing had come of it.

He was dozing in the chair, holding Shepard's hand, when a sharp rap on the door started him awake. Admiral Shepard strode in without bothering to wait for a reply.

Liara was as good as her word. In very little time at all, she managed to locate Shepard's mother and apprise her of the situation. She came on the next shuttle over, and since then she had visited as her duty allowed. Alenko first met her years ago at Shepard's funeral, and he was struck then as he was now by how alike they looked. Shepard lacked her mother's porcelain skin, too much Mexicali blood from her grandmother he guessed, and the admiral's hair had long since gone to gray, but the fine bone structure of their faces, the shape and color of their eyes, even their noticeable height and they way they held themselves, was nearly identical. Nobody would have mistaken them for anything but mother and daughter.

She gave orders like her daughter, too. Small wonder Shepard was such a natural at command. "What's our status?"

He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. "She came through the last surgery well. The doctors are already seeing increased uptake with her kidneys. They think the new tissue is taking."

"Good." She waved her omnitool at the equipment and read the latest summary with a critical eye, though to Alenko's knowledge she had no medical training whatsoever. "I don't know what Cerberus was thinking, fitting her with all these synthetic components when good old-fashioned flesh will do the job."

Alenko held his peace. Cerberus had less to work with at the start, and Shepard's own body had healed considerably since her resurrection. All of that had made it easier for her doctors to patch these wounds with more holistic methods. And Shepard certainly _looked _better. The bruises were gone along with most of the non-surgical stitching. There was color in her cheeks again. A few new scars, but he didn't think she would mind. "I think Cerberus was less concerned with her long term wellbeing."

Hannah Shepard snorted bemused agreement. "And how are you doing, major?"

"Could be worse," he replied, cautiously. They met under odd circumstances, both grieving, and only tenuously connected by Nathaly. She handled it with more grace than he managed to muster. The current circumstances weren't altogether very different, and Alenko found himself unsure what to make of her, or how to behave. There was no word from Shepard's father, though Alenko knew he was honorably discharged some years before, when Shepard was a teenager, following a rapid decompression accident that left him with permanent health problems, and he subsequently retired to one of the larger naval base communities on Mars. Everything there was hit hard by Cerberus. He knew it had to be weighing on the admiral's mind, but she hadn't spoken of it since he first asked.

Admiral Shepard shut off the omnitool display and turned towards him with a tidy economy of motion that spoke to her long years of military service. "You should let me take a shift here. There's someone waiting on the com for you."

Alenko rubbed his face tiredly. "I spoke with Alliance Command yesterday, and if I have to listen to one more so-called 'council representative' try to sell me on some power-vacuum scheme I'm going face-first out an airlock."

"You'll want to take this message," she assured him. There was a hint of a smile about her mouth. "Being a rear admiral with a very famous daughter gives me some pull yet. Go on. I won't leave her alone, I promise."

With a brow furrowed in confusion, he let her take up his sentinel position, and wandered off towards the com room. The technician saluted. "Your call is waiting in room three, sir."

Alenko nodded. "At ease."

He shut the door behind him, rolled his shoulders to work out any preemptive irritation, and slapped the transponder. "Alenko here."

"Kaidan?" a tremulous voice asked.

He blinked as the grainy holograph resolved from the static. "Mom?"

Nimura Alenko broke into a huge smile and let out a choking sound. "We heard you were in London. We were so worried." She swiped at her eyes with her sleeve. Never a particularly slender woman, it was clear the invasion had taken its toll. Her cheeks were almost gaunt and her dark eyes were sunken in her face. "When Admiral Shepard got your father on the com to say she'd found you- that was as good as the day they finally brought you home from Jump Zero."

The holo flickered in and out of view. Clearly, the connection was tenuous at best- or the equipment groundside was damaged. Alenko's gaze went to the man standing beside her, also looking worse for wear. His smile, however, was undaunted. "It's good to see you, son. Mighty good."

"Dad." He had to close his eyes against the sudden rush of relief. "They told me you were fighting, but they didn't have any other word. Your leg-"

Tom Alenko glanced down the length of his crutch, to where his pants were neatly pinned at the knee. "Grenade. There wasn't enough armor to go around. I'm sure they'll get to fitting some kind of prosthetic as soon as they get the supply chains figured out."

He held up a hand to forestall the question. "I'm fine, Kaidan. I'm not in much pain. There's others worse."

"God," Nimura said, still fussing at her eyes. "I don't even know what to say. I have something here from your cousins-"

She wandered off the display. Alenko watched his father's eyes follow her. Heavy lines of worry creased his forehead. He swung his attention back to his son and lowered his voice. "Admiral Shepard told me you could use some good news. How is Nathaly? I got the impression it's pretty bad."

Alenko swallowed and looked down at the console. "She was barely alive when they brought her here. Six major surgeries and a lot of patching later, she's doing better, physically, but she's still comatose. The brain activity's there…"

"But?" His father raised a brow.

He exhaled. "No one will come out and say it, but her doctors are starting to think she might never wake up. It's been longer than it should."

"And what do you think?"

"Nathaly's a fighter." Alenko looked up. "She's better than this. If she's still in there, she'll find a way to get out."

"Hold onto that thought. Don't let anyone tell you it's over 'til it's over." He was silent a moment, scanning the major up and down, as if he'd never seen him before. "You look like you've been through five wars since Tuesday, son, but it's so damn good to see you."

Nimura bustled back into view holding a piece of paper. "You remember your cousin Kyle? Of course you do. His girls drew this for you."

She held up the page. There was what appeared to be a reaper drawn in black and red crayon, surrounded by scribbled explosions and odd blue clouds he assumed were supposed to be biotic attacks. One of them had laboriously written "BLAM!" across the bottom. Their names were signed, in an equally shaky hand, in the corner- Lila and Taylor.

"They were sheltered at the orchard, with your uncle," she explained. "Everyone was praying so hard for you, for all of you."

He stared at it. All he could think was that they were far too young to know what a reaper looked like- in any universe with any justice whatsoever, anyway. Alenko swallowed. "How is Kyle?"

His parents glanced at each other and he read the look between them with a sinking heart. His father cleared his throat. "He joined the resistance, Amy as well. There was a raid by husks on the building where we were bunking down. Kyle didn't make it. We're…we're still looking for his wife. No word yet. We're hopeful."

"Anderson ordered me to leave." He felt it rising, the same frustrated, hopeless rage he felt as the Normandy left orbit all those months ago. "I should have- I could have- dammit."

"You're safe," his mother said firmly. "That's all that matters. You did everything you could."

"It's not all that matters!"

His father laid a quelling arm on Nimura's shoulder. "If the Normandy's mission failed, we'd all be dead. That's just frank truth, Kaidan. What you helped do saved what was left. The only ones to blame for the dead are the reapers. Hell's going to have to open a new wing."

"I- I know. Just…give me a minute." He turned his back on the com, rubbed his eyes, took a long breath. Kyle was like a brother to him when they were kids. He'd been best man at Kyle and Amy's wedding. Their poor daughters… it was overwhelming. "I'm sorry. I hope Amy made it. I'll see what I can find out."

"I'm sure everyone would appreciate that, but you have bigger things to worry about. This one'll work itself out. You'll see." Tom was trying for encouraging, but it only worsened his guilt. It didn't matter what they said. He was a spectre, he was one of the near-legendary Normandy crew, he should have been able to do something to stop this.

He suddenly wondered if this was how Shepard felt _all the time._

Alenko looked up. "Thanks. It really means a lot, seeing you both. And thanks for telling me about Kyle. It's better knowing."

"We love you, Kaidan." His mother held his father's arm and smiled into the com. "We're so proud of you."

"Love you too."

The connection cut out, leaving Alenko in the humming darkness of the com room.


	5. Chapter 5

_Nathaly Shepard was three years old, the wind crisp and hot against her face in the airfield outside Phoenix, where the silver ships rode tails of flame into the sky. Someone put a flag in her hand, a cheap one of stiff plastic, the Alliance Navy symbol already rubbing away, and she waved it and cheered without knowing or caring why. Everyone else was._

_Her abuelita plaited her hair that morning- oh, she remembered how the comb pulled- but she loved the feeling of the heavy braids against her shoulders. The old woman held her brown hand in her own, dark and creased and spotted, gentle and firm, so as not to lose track of the toddler in the crowd. She said nothing as her son knelt down and kissed his daughter, his moustache tickling her forehead, and put his hands around her waist. "You'll be good for your grandparents, won't you Zey-Zey? You'll be my big girl?" _

_She laughed and promised that she would, and he swung her up into a bear hug, tight and warm. Her mother was already on deployment when the war began. She still didn't understand that her father was leaving, too._

Shepard opened her hand and cupped a flickering light in the darkness. She stood in a tiny island of warmth in a cold and endless void, shivering, her black uniform ripped and stained. There were no clues as to how she got here, or even where here was, or where to go next. It felt…oddly familiar. Shepard couldn't put her finger on it.

She took a step. Where her foot touched the floor, it glowed faintly, briefly blue, and chimed softly. In this way she pattered into the night carrying her flame. There were whispers, sometimes, old sounds and smells and half-remembered sensations. She could feel a phantom wind in her hair. Her feet kept pulling her forward.

_A taste of ancient salts in her mouth. Her head was bleeding. Judging by the wreck of the 2165 Canyon Rider all around her, she was lucky to be alive, but at the moment the only thing that seemed important was her father no longer had a car, and she was eventually going to have to inform him of that reality. _

_By dint of much patience and swearing, she managed to extract herself from the smoldering ruin of a vehicle, though not without acquiring a few more scrapes. The friends who came out to the basin plain to race were nowhere to be seen, and the car's radio was long past saving. The boondoggle that had tented Hellas Basin in the 40s and filled it with air was a saving grace, but it still got blasted cold at night, and here she was in ripped jeans and a faded t-shirt. _

_Serves him right, she thought sullenly. She never wanted to come here. She wanted to be back in space, with her mom, in the shoebox barracks of Station 1017, not trapped on a planet that tasted like ass with her crippled father and a giant, faceless high school that would supposedly give her "solidity". In fact, it might be fun to make him sweat a bit, wait a day or two before strolling back into town. A little hardship wouldn't kill her._

_Nobody told her that all directions look the same from inside a desert. When she finally tracked her way to a research facility two weeks later, half out of her mind from thirst and exposure, her father never even bothered to mention the car._

**You never apologized.**

The thought came from her own head, but it was not her own thought. The sensation was…peculiar, unnerving. Infuriating. Aloud, she said, "If I'm supposed to apologize for my own survival, I've got a long list of people waiting."

She started moving faster now. The light she sheltered in her cupped hands seemed to grow incrementally stronger with her speed. "I'm especially not apologizing for being as thick-headed as any other sixteen-year-old."

**You didn't stop racing either, even though you swore never to do it again. You lied. **It sounded confused.

Sure, she promised as much, anything to take the fear from her father's face, but the speed was her sanity. She could lose herself in the desert, in the necessity of concentration and the demands of its hazards, forget about all the ways her life was changing. Losing the car hurt her more than him. "I'm pretty sure he figured it out after I used my signing bonus to buy the Fire Starter."

Now that was a car. Too bad it was probably a heap of ashes on Mars, now.

Tiny lights were emerging out of the velvet black, like stars too near to be real. The air tasted…fresh, not stale and ancient, but filled with water, and the scent of soil. Like it was going to rain any minute. A shiver went up her spine. If this…place…was forcing her to step through her own memories, then logically, next would be-

_It was hot as hell, even after the sun went down, this close to the equator. A perfect garden world. Hah. Shepard spat on the ground, and took another bite of the protein bar that was about all of their rations that wasn't ruined by the humidity. That was Alliance logistics for you._

"_Got a report for you, LT." The marine hustled up to her, with the sort of eager wariness she'd come to expect from this unit. This wasn't special ops, strictly speaking, but her squad had been placed in charge by Alliance Command. The soldiers were at once admiring and resentful of the special forces presence. _

_She took the datapad and glanced over it. "Shit. Are you kidding me?"_

"_No, ma'am." He held himself at attention. "We lost the trail in the woods to the east. It's going to take awhile for the forensics to come back. With luck, the electronics will pick something up. A whole colony doesn't just pick up and vanish."_

"_I hear you." She sighed. "I'll take this to the commander. You and your men set up the tents. We're not going anywhere for awhile."_

Shepard shuddered. The rest had been dumb luck. She never knew what woke her up, or how she knew, just by sheer instinct, that the trees would be the only safe haven. She tried to rally the other marines to follow. Some even did. None of them made it. Well, except Toombs, and she wasn't sure he counted, as far gone as he was.

**When the attack was over, you backtracked to what was left of the colony.**

She remembered. There was a shuttle, undamaged, and she cajoled the autopilot into taking her back to orbit.

**They called you a hero.**

There was nothing heroic about outliving your entire unit. Nothing. She should've had the courage to tell Ash that, back on Eden Prime, that it was right to feel angry and helpless and anything but a hero, no matter how many medals they pinned to your chest afterwards, or what plum assignment you got in reward.

**You went there again, and again, and again, for years. Unavoidably at first, then as a reminder, a talisman for your sacrifices. Admiral Anderson, in the announcement of your induction as a spectre, stated Commander Shepard was born on Akuze. It accelerated your career and solidified your dedication.**

**It set you on a different path.**

_Todd, scowling in their apartment, picking yet another fight. "It's bad enough that you still wake up half the time screaming about monsters and coated in enough sweat to fill a tub. No, you have to seek out every mission, the more dangerous and half-assed the better, every promotion, every opportunity to prove you're fine."_

"_I AM fine," she protested. "You think I volunteer for that stuff to show off?"_

"_Face it Nath- Akuze changed you. I hardly recognize you anymore. This 'whatever it takes' persona? That's not you."_

"_Sure it is. All Akuze showed me is nobody cares how cautious or by-the-book you were when they're filling coffins with marines."_

"_Maybe that's true," he shot back, disgusted. "Maybe it just took the gloves off. Either way, I… I can't deal with you like this. God knows I've tried. Until you come back to your senses and get some help, I don't think I can be with you."_

_The declaration hung in the air like a poison between them. Even Todd looked surprised. _

"_Fine," Shepard said at last. She tore the ring off her finger fast enough to leave the knuckle aching and flung it at him. "Fuck you, anyway."_

"Ok, what is this garbage?" Shepard was annoyed now. "You trap me in some black-box room, force me to relive the worst experiences of my life, and you can't do better than an unmourned relationship that's ten years in the past? I had a tub of ice cream, a fifth of whiskey, and a couple months of one night stands. I got over it."

**You reduced the human need for affection to a series of biological urges. **

She didn't slow her pace. "I've always had plenty of friends. That never changed. I didn't need someone yelling at me constantly about my priorities and sure as hell didn't need someone who stressed me out more than job. I was happy."

The voice invading her head, whatever it was, did not refute this. Still, she was unable to stop herself from continuing to justify it. "Really, I should've thanked him. He clarified my goals for my life. I had to choose, and I chose this, and I don't regret it."

_The final mission, deep in the Terminus, was brutal. The Alliance wasn't supposed to be here at all, which was probably why the Batarians fled here with their slaves in the first place. They'd killed the adults outright, anyone who resisted, and most of their…cargo… was under the age of fifteen. Taking out the alarm system and boarding the ship, neutralizing the guard before they could harm the children, with only five men and three days to plan the whole operation while they were en route, was the most demanding task she'd ever done._

_But they pulled it out. It was one of the best moments of her life- until she got back to quarters on their frigate and found Anderson waiting for her._

"_I heard your armor took a beating," he said._

_It was true. She doubted the shield generator would ever work properly again, but she all she had to show for it was a few serious bruises. Seeing her confusion, he handed her a package. "So I took the liberty of getting you a new hardsuit."_

"_That's…nice of you sir, but I don't see why you-"_

"_Just open it." He stood over her with an inscrutable smile, as she pried open the top and lifted out the helmet, suddenly dumbfounded. Anderson clapped her on the shoulder. "The official letter will come in a few days, once we get back to base, but I didn't think it was too soon. Good work, commander."_

_He left without waiting for a reply, leaving her staring at the N7 designation painted, bold as daylight, across the side._

**You didn't regret it. You made the right choice. **It spoke with more confidence now, more agreement.

"It was the proudest day of my life." Even becoming a spectre didn't top it. If anything, that felt more like a political ploy than something she earned, and always had. But she wore the title well.

Special ops always came naturally to her. Shepard was invited to attend preliminary training before her twentieth birthday. Later, N7 opened her up to situations she hadn't even suspected existed on the galactic scene. It blackened her sense of humor and increased her inclination towards expediency. It _had _changed her, eventually, but she thought it was for the better, even now.

**That was why Anderson selected you personally to be his XO on the Normandy.**

It was hard to think of him dead. He was an old friend of the family from the First Contact War, when he served on the same ship as her mother, and it was Anderson who encouraged her to pursue special forces in the first place. It was like rock turning to water.

The Normandy assignment didn't come without a teaspoon of trepidation. At a few months shy of twenty-nine, she was young for such an advanced position on any ship, much less one with as much prestige as a cutting-edge frigate. It was a tremendous honor. Anderson, Pressly, Adams, even Chakwas were all old enough to be her parents. The captain was confident she would rise to the challenge, and looking back, she guessed he was right.

It defied belief to remember that mission was less than six months of her life. It changed everything. Her first serious command, once Anderson abdicated, and instead of a nice, simple take-down of a rogue agent, they discovered the end of the world. There was nothing like obstinate leadership and overwhelming odds to bring a crew together. Shepard always made friends easily, both inside and outside the military, but her best ones were all made there. Five years ago she'd have laughed at the suggestion.

_Her mother's chuckle faded into a long, contented sigh. "We really need to do this more than every few months."_

"_I'm glad we finally caught each other off-duty." Shepard folded her arms across her desk in her quarters aboard the Normandy, and suppressed a yawn. It was getting late by Earth Standard._

"_I should let you go," Hannah said._

_Shepard licked her lips, hesitantly. "Before you do, could I ask you something?"_

"_Anything you like."_

"_You told me once that when you met dad, you were both serving on the same ship."_

"_That's right." Hannah rolled her eyes. "He was the most loud-mouthed, recalcitrant corporal I think I've ever met. At first I couldn't get him to do anything without being sassed. Shows you how people can change."_

"_How did you…handle that? I mean, officially."_

"_When we realized the relationship was serious, we were honest about it. I informed my CO and she told me there would be a note added to my file, and Paul and I would never serve in the same command again. Then she shook my hand and offered her congratulations." She shrugged. "The Alliance isn't stupid. They know they can't control how two people feel about each other. They settle for controlling how we're allowed to respond to our feelings, so that the mission isn't disrupted by affairs of the heart, or old grudges for that matter. Why are you asking me about this?"_

_Shepard shook her head. "It's nothing. I was just curious."_

**Why Kaidan? **That note of confusion was back, the not-quite-understanding. Almost like she was talking to EDI.

"Because…" She wasn't sure how to explain it. He was one of the few people who agreed putting the mission first, no matter what, was right. It was more than a uniform and a paycheck to him. For once, there was no set of conflicting priorities to fight. He always tried to do better, pushed himself, improved, and he had a core of loyalty and kindness to steer him. They were both by nature serious, and in truth more tightly wound than was healthy. Where she'd rush in with a quick fix, he'd stop and think, and make her think, too. He wouldn't lie to make her happy, called her on her bullshit, but he could also be gentler than she ever thought she'd like, or need. When held her, all her concerns seemed to melt into the floor.

"Because he's like me, and not many people are." Shepard said at last. "Because to him I'm still just a human being, Nathaly, and not the indomitable Commander Shepard, galactic icon."

**You admire him for being a good soldier, like you, yet you wanted to stay with him at Memorial, though that was not best for your mission and you knew he would want you to go to Palaven. **

Shepard's step paused and her hand closed over the flame for a long moment. _Eva held Kaidan up with an iron grip on his helmet mask. He kicked at her futilely. Shepard couldn't get a clear shot. Eva requested further instructions._

_She could hear clear as day the exchange from nine months ago. She'd just gotten back on board the Normandy when the Illusive Man ordered a debriefing. He tipped his hand that he arranged Horizon to be targeted, and suddenly her rage, hurt, and profound sense of loss since she woke up found a viable target. She lost her temper along with the last of her discretion. "If you EVER use someone I love as bait again, the collectors will be the LEAST of your problems."_

_Eva waited for his command. She whispered, too quiet to hear, "No-"_

She opened her eyes. "Yes."

_Looking in through the glass. Barely able to see him through the throng of doctors. She never felt so small or helpless. _

**Why?**

"I don't know." She hadn't even cared that they were fighting. Fighting was speaking. It was an improvement.

"_Please trust me."_

"_I- I'm sorry, I do, it's just-"_

**I don't understand.**

"Tali didn't either." Shepard almost half-smiled at that. The quarian cornered her almost as soon as she got on the ship.

_Tali folded her arms and paced in front of the fish tank. "Why would your Admiral Hackett assign Kaidan to this ship? Is he insane?"_

"_He didn't." Shepard stuck her hands in her pockets. "Kaidan asked me to come aboard. I agreed."_

"_What?" The lights inside Tali's mask flickered, a quarian blink. "Shepard, he's a jerk."_

_Shepard sighed and rubbed her face. "Tali-"_

"_When you needed him most, he called you a traitor and left." Tali was indignant._

"_Two things about that." Shepard crossed her arms. "The first is that he was right."_

"_Oh, come on-"_

"_I was a traitor to the Alliance, which I have proudly served since I was eighteen years old," she continued steadily over Tali's objections. "I never should have agreed to work with Cerberus. They're pure, unrivaled evil- even the reapers are only fulfilling their programming. I should have taken their pirated ship design and all their intel and turned it over to Alliance Command, let them interrogate me and scan me, and this whole mess would have been cleared up a year ago. Hell, they probably would have sent me after the Collectors themselves, if I'd been honest with them."_

"_Or maybe even more human colonies would be gone."_

_Shepard shrugged. "Maybe. That was my logic at the time. Now, I'm not so sure."_

_The quarian digested this. After a moment, she ventured, "You said there were two reasons."_

_Her face softened. "Tali, he was hurting too."_

"_You're the one who died," she shot back._

"_He's the one who had to live with it. If it'd been him, I'd have lost my mind." Shepard turned back to her terminal. "It's not for you to judge."_

Aloud, to the voice, she said, "I'm a soldier. The Alliance is my home. Cerberus took took that from me. My friends wouldn't look at me the same way. They stuck me in a copy ship with a copy crew and pretended like everything was as before, and never let me know what exactly they did to me. And then they used my doubts and uncertainty to convince me to help them. Kaidan knows me better than anyone, and I let them turn me into something he could barely recognize, to the point that it was easier for him to believe that I was being mind controlled by Cerberus than to think I'd made these choices of my own volition."

Shepard was walking so quickly she was almost jogging, now. She thought she could see a light in the distance. "I was lost. I wanted- no, I needed my life back. I needed the things that were really important to me restored. That's where Miranda got it wrong- she thought it was about blood and breath. She never brought me back to life. I had to do that myself, and it started with surrendering after the incident in Batarian space."

Understanding dawned. **He was one of the things you needed.**

_After the mess by the shuttles, C-Sec was quick to whisk the remaining council members back into the relative safety of their embassies. The two spectres were left to wait in Bailey's outer office. _

_For long moments, neither said anything. They leaned against the wall in creaking armor and made a study of the middle distance. Shepard drew her pistol and tested the action on the thermal clip. It felt a bit sticky._

"_You shot Udina," Kaidan said at last._

"_Yes, I did." She didn't look up from her work. "He was a threat, I had the shot, and I took it. Any soldier would have done the same damn thing. Even you."_

"_But sometimes the way a thing goes down does matter, Nathaly. Later, when you have to live with yourself. Knowing that you acted with integrity — then it matters."_

_She didn't grace that with a reply. The clip really didn't want to slide freely. Air hissed from the ventilators- probably damage from the attack. It was usually silent. She could feel him watching her. _

"_Would you have shot me?"_

"_Not even if it ended the war." It popped back in, finally, and then she did look over at him. "Trust me, don't trust me- I don't even care anymore. At some point, Kaidan, it takes a leap of faith. When you're ready to join me over here, let me know."_

_Bailey coughed, clearly having caught the last part of the conversation. "They're ready to see you now, Commander."_

"_Excuse me." She pushed past them both and disappeared into the next room._

_Hours later, slogging back to the Normandy, she found him waiting in the docking tunnel._

"_I'm sorry," he said. "I'll never doubt you again."_

It was definitely getting lighter. It was clear, now, in the growing illumination, that she was following a path through this disjointed series of memories. It hovered in the middle of the infinite room, its deepest recesses lost to fog, and it branched out in a hundred directions. Behind her she could see her walk through the dark had led her down many of them, sometimes forward, sometimes backwards, sometimes in circles. The charred and blackened exteriors of her recollections were sobering to review- but not as chilling as the sudden recognition of where she was. The last time she saw such a place was on the inside of a Geth server.

A lightening-streaked portal waited at the termination of this route. In front of it stood…herself, as envisioned by a shady entrepreneur named Mouse and whoever he paid to program the thing. Its permanently chipper smile, poor pixilation, and glued-on uniform were as much an eyesore as ever.

**Congratulations**, the VI said. **Now you know why Legion required a guide. When you are the data, it is difficult to see clearly what must be done.**

"What the hell is this?" The flame in her hands went out. Shepard stared around at the vault surrounding her, a data construct of her own mind, and felt her stomach clench. "Does this mean I'm-"

**No. **It sounded almost amused. **Synthetics cannot feel as you do. A VI cannot, by definition, feel distress, loss, grief, anger. Or happiness, or joy, or contentment. Even AI do not understand these things fully, even when programmed to do so. Your friend EDI required guidance for even marginal comprehension. You are, simply, yourself.**

The relief she felt at that moment was so overwhelming, so powerful, that she actually sat down on the path, forehead in her hands, and took a shaky breath.

**That was always your secret fear. That was why your resurrection made you feel lost and unsettled. If Cerberus made you somehow not yourself, you did not wish to be alive. **It paused. **This has been true all your life. You defined yourself as a good soldier, a reliable friend, a stalwart commander. You displayed the traits you wanted to be called. Nobody ever did it any better. But in time you came to see yourself as two people, Nathaly and Shepard, one for public consumption, and one that must be closely guarded.**

"I'm a public figure. A leader. If my confidence fails, everyone else's will follow. That's just how it works."

**Perhaps. But they've never been two people, not really. It was Shepard's strength that destroyed the reapers- but it was Nathaly's that cured the genophage.**

_They were on a shuttle down to Tuchanka with the dalatrass' proposal still ringing in her ears. She could have brought it up immediately, but her mind was still weighing the options, krogan might against salarian savvy, potential for encouraging asari support, and a hundred other variables that made her head hurt. This was no longer a matter of philosophy to be debated with Mordin in his lab. This was about what she needed to keep the galaxy alive. In the background Eve was speaking with Wrex. They were imagining life after the genophage, their voices full of hope._

_She remembered Eve telling her about holding her stillborn child. They were sitting in the same medical bay on the Normandy where for several weeks following Shepard's resurrection, Chakwas attempted to inventory the extent of the Lazarus project's modifications, through scans and guesswork. They went through each major body system one by one. It wasn't until much later, when she read the results of Miranda's own tests onboard the Shadow Broker's ship, that Shepard realized why she bothered to reconstruct such a finicky and unnecessary bit of plumbing as the female reproductive system. It was something that shouldn't have mattered- Shepard was in her thirties, alone, and her life was unlikely to get any less exciting in the foreseeable future. But it mattered all the same._

_Behind her veil and her jewelry, Eve's eyes glowed as she spoke of krogan children. Shepard spilled the beans then and there. It didn't matter if they survived if it turned them into the kind of people who would consider this justified._

_Wrex, of course, started shouting, and then tried to thank her. She cut him off. "I didn't do this for you. No woman should have to go through what your women have endured. We're ending it."_

Shepard shook her head. "What am I doing here?"

**Trying to remember who you are. **The VI took a step towards her and folded its hands behind its back. **Trying to wake up.**

_Energy like white lightening in her nerves. The Citadel groaning around her, starting to come apart. Flying through the air. A crash. Darkness._

Her body jerked in memory. She winced away. "The Citadel-"

**Is destroyed. You know it's true.**

She took a breath. "The reapers?"

**We do not know. **It hesitated. **You are needed.**

"Nap time's over, I guess." Shepard rubbed her eyes, and took a last look around. "I feel like I'm going to regret this, but how do I leave?"

The VI smiled, and stepped aside. Behind her the portal beckoned.

Shepard stepped through.

"'_War is an atrocity committed in the name of survival'," she quoted, languorously. They were sprawled on the couch in the Starboard Observatory, watching the tell-tale marks of FTL engines drift against the stars._

_Kaidan snorted. "You listen to Javik too much."_

"_What, you don't think it's true?" She raised an eyebrow at him._

"_It's absolutely true, just depressing as hell." He pulled her into a slightly more comfortable position. _

_She snickered. They looked out the window for a few silent minutes. "'War is an atrocity committed in the name of survival.' I'm a soldier. By definition, it's my job to commit atrocities so that something lives on."_

"_If you want to think about it like that." He looked down at her. "We do some good things, too."_

"_By my reckoning, I must have the highest body count in the Alliance, by a couple hundred thousand. Maybe by millions if you count the Geth, and I do. I commit atrocities."_

"_Does this mean I can call you atrocious?" She gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes. "Come on, Nathaly. What's this really about?"_

_She laced her fingers through his. "If that's what I do, what happens to me when there's no more war? Is there anything else I can do? Or will I keep looking for some reason to fight until there's nothing left?"_

"_I guess that's up to you." Kaidan played with her hair. "What do you want to do?"_

"_I…" She closed her mouth, surprised. "You know, it's been so long since anybody asked me that I don't even know anymore."_

"_There's no rush."_

_Shepard thought about it. "I want…to be left alone, I think. Just for a little while. Not be responsible for anyone, or anything, not a crew, not a galaxy. Just find some dinky little ship, sail away and…"_

"_Rest," he finished for her._

_She closed her eyes. "Yes." _

_Kaidan held her a little tighter. "I think we can arrange that."_

"_Oh, so you're coming with me, then." She kept her tone light, hiding the warm bubble of happiness spreading through her stomach._

"_You need someone to pilot your dinky little ship." He made a face. "There's only two things you can't do, and that's fly and dance."_

"_Ain't nothing wrong with my dancing."_

_He coughed. "You are, by the way."_

"_I'm what?" _

"_Atrocious. I mean, is there a single crevice of your quarters that doesn't have a dirty sock lurking in it, waiting to surprise the unwary?"_

_She hit him with a pillow._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Shepard opened her eyes.

Several frantic blinks later, the dark room swam into focus. Orange lights flickered steadily from a humming rack of medical equipment, and there was an IV needle inserted into the back of her hand. The space was tiny, her heartbeat loud and foreign in her ears. She couldn't read the IV bag. What were they putting into her?

Her fingernails scraped at the tape holding the needle in place. It seemed to take a lot more effort than it should, but eventually, she worked it free and drew out the barb with a hissing intake of air. The wireless monitoring device clamped about her wrist swiftly followed. Her body was sluggish, minimally responsive. Shepard felt weak as a kitten. After even that small effort, she needed a moment to catch her breath.

Free of the medical apparatus, she finally took a moment to look around the room. The door was in front of her, the outline of a rectangle inscribed in white light. So she was clearly in some larger facility, one that operated even late into the night. That observation was further borne out by her thin cotton hospital gown, and lack of underthings or omnitool. There was no lock on the door. A vid com terminal stood sentinel beside it, switched off.

Then she noticed the visitor's chair, and her breath caught. She'd know that profile anywhere, in the light or in the dark. "Kaidan."

Her voice came out as barely a whisper, no air behind it, her throat a long rusty ache. Unsurprisingly, he didn't stir. He was scrunched up into what passed for a comfortable position in an uncomfortable seat, clearly asleep. Shepard licked her lips and tried again. "Kaidan?"

Even in the poor light, he looked exhausted. His hair was a mess and it was apparent this wasn't the first time he'd slept in this set of clothes. A moment's guilt flashed through her. _Hell, the things I do to him…_ But at the same time, his face was peaceful, as if whatever dreams he was having were good ones. Some blurry, semi-incoherent memories were trickling in, of this room, people's voices, being wheeled around in this bed. His hand around hers and his face looking down at her. Reassuring her, even though he wasn't certain she could listen.

Then his eyes creaked open, and he gave a little stretch and glanced at the holo on the wall displaying the time.

"Hi," Shepard said, in the same small, dusty voice. It wasn't at all loud, but the room was very quiet.

Alenko just about jumped out of his skin.

"Over here," she croaked. "You always…hate it when I don't wake you up."

He stared at her in astonishment for a long second. Then he was sitting on her bed, his hand warm on her face. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then her ear, and stayed there close to her, holding her as gently as he possibly could. She could feel the relief and exhaustion in him. "What took you so long?"

Shepard managed to fold her arms over his back. He took a shaky breath, then pulled away from her, his lips brushing her forehead. He rested his brow gently on hers. "I love you."

She clung to him. "You're still here."

Kaidan sat up, and folded her hand into his. "I'm not going anywhere."


	6. Chapter 6

"The hell I'm not going." Shepard's eyes blazed at the doctor.

He took an involuntary step back and fingered his datapad nervously. "Commander, I know you feel fine, but your condition is still far from stable. Your implants-"

"I can't walk, and you think I'm feeling fine? You're not hearing me." She slammed her hand down on the armrest of the chair. "This isn't about a jailbreak. This is my friend's funeral. I'm going. I don't care if you have to shoot me up with enough drugs to make a dead elephant dance."

"It's not that simple, as I've mentioned several times now," he replied, his words clipped and testy. "You suffered severe spinal damage when the first Normandy was destroyed. Your previous doctors elected to leave the nerves severed and install a large cybernetic suite over the affected area to reroute the necessary signals."

"This is old news." One of the first things Chakwas discovered in her Lazarus investigation was that the raw ends of her spinal column were too damaged to knit back together in the traditional way. This was likely why Cerberus chose a cybernetic solution. To repair it organically, her doctors would have to trim the ends with fresh cuts, which risked even further loss of bodily function if her recovery went poorly.

The doctor was exasperated. "Commander, with all due respect, you're not listening to what I'm saying. The implant is malfunctioning unpredictably. That's why you've had only intermittent muscular control. We can't simply shut it down because there's no guarantee we can restart it. I don't know where Cerberus got their hardware, but I've never seen the like, nor have the two other specialists we had examine it. Without it, you'll lose everything from the waist down and the only alternative is the incredibly risky surgery you seem so blasé about."

"What does this have to do with whether or not I can go down to Earth?"

"There is a _reason, _Commander, why you are on a ship hospital. Earth has _no _medical facilities worth the name right now. If you suffer a severe malfunction, without access to immediate medical attention, the results could be catastrophic." He glared at her. "And this is without going into your more mundane injuries, like the eight-inch surgical access stapled up your side. Or the fact that you've got all kinds of delicate organ tissue growing in and even a minor shuttle crash could be deadly. Would you like me to go on?"

"So I'll wear a damned seatbelt. I'm not seeing the problem."

He gave up trying to reason with her. "You're grounded by medical order. Good luck with that."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. Her hands flexed on the wheels of the chair and she calculated her odds of successfully ramming his knees and making a run for it.

At that moment, the door slid open and Major Alenko walked in, adjusting the collar of his dress blues. "Ready to go?"

The doctor opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get a word out, Shepard answered, loud and firm. "Yes."

Her doctor glanced over at Alenko. "She's not going anywhere, major. It's too dangerous."

"Kaidan, it's Garrus," Shepard said, urgently. "I know what I'm doing."

Alenko looked between them for a moment, considering, before he called up his omnitool and tapped in a few commands. "I'm authorizing Shepard for transport to Earth under the recently enacted emergency provisions. The shuttle's waiting, so I estimate you have about fifteen minutes to find and convince someone who outranks me to countermand the order, or you can spend the time explaining how to do this as safely as possible."

"Everyone wants to be a doctor." He threw up his hands. "What are all those years of training and experience really worth, anyway?"

"Garrus was fighting the reapers' arrival back when everyone thought we were insane. Without him, we wouldn't be having this conversation." Alenko tried for placating. "Look, if you knew him, you'd understand."

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "Damned marines. Fine. You need to fly down in a cocoon-"

Shepard groaned. Alenko silenced her protests with a look. "We can arrange that. What else?"

"She must check her bandage every hour, and change it every six- that incision is going to continue draining for awhile. An antibiotic dose with each change. If it starts to stink, or develops a sharp pain, get her to a field hospital ASAP. Same if she develops any back pain, loses feeling in her legs, or feels otherwise strange." He looked over at Shepard. "You already know the drill about prepackaged food. Absolutely NOTHING that didn't come out of a sterile macrobiotic pouch and no alcohol of any kind. Your liver isn't ready for it."

"Right." She pushed the chair forward. Alenko tagged the door for her. She paused for a second and looked back. "And thanks, doc. It means a lot."

His expression softened slightly, and he accepted her thanks with a nod.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Shepard felt ridiculous lying on the floor of the Kodiak, strapped in a medical cocoon. Somewhere between a sleeping bag and a coffin, the device functionally immobilized her and inured patients to external momentums, on top of the dampeners already a part of the craft. She might as well have been in null gravity for all she felt of their reentry.

Alenko lounged on the seats, one leg folded balanced across the other, looking out the window. Not even wearing a seatbelt, she noted sourly.

"Do you know what you're going to say?" Alenko glanced over at her.

Shepard was quiet. "I'll know by the time I have to say it."

He turned back to the window, hesitated a moment, then said, "You know, Garrus came to see me, when I was in Memorial on the Citadel."

Her brow furrowed. "That was nice of him. He never mentioned it."

"It _was_ nice of him. I was bored out of my mind and visitors were just about the only relief. We talked about a lot of things. Old times. New rifles. Traded some stories about Alliance spec ops and vigilante raids. Heh, some of them might have even been true." Alenko sat back and shrugged. "Talked about you a little, too."

"Oh? What about?"

"He wanted to know what my intentions were. Towards you. If you can believe that." He rubbed at a scuff mark on his boot and shook his head. "I told him it was none of his business, and he replied that it was unfortunate you were an only child, because you needed an older brother for situations like this, but he knew the drill and he'd do the best he could."

That drew a bemused smile. "Why was he worried?"

Alenko rolled a shoulder. "He said you were a little…unglued, after Horizon. Hell, I was a little unglued. I had a three day leave after that mission and I'm not sure I was sober an hour of it. It's not important. The point, he said, was if I could cause that much damage when you were under a tenth the stress of fighting for Earth, I'd better be damn sure I wanted this, I mean really wanted this, before I started anything. I resented it, but afterwards, it made me think a lot. About you and me. Us."

"I see." She took it in for a moment. "Why tell me about Garrus?"

"He was a good friend," Alenko said. "We're going to hear a lot today about how brave he was, the greatest of turians, all those high-minded things we say about the honored dead. I don't know that anyone is going to mention that he was just about the greatest friend anyone could ask for. It didn't matter who was or wasn't watching, he'd go through hell for the people he cared for. And someone _should_ stand up and say that. It was the best thing about him."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Just getting her out of the shuttle was an event. The human media was out in force, not only because this memorial was for one of Normandy's crew, but because ever since Hackett's announcement of her survival, they'd been hungry for a chance to evaluate Shepard for themselves. The official statement had not included the name of her ship.

So even after she was unpacked from the ridiculous cocoon, she was reluctant to let anyone help her down the foot or so to the ground from the Kodiak's hatch. Proposals to carry her out were flatly rejected. Shepard was not comfortable with the first pictures of her since the disaster looking helpless. Finally, she agreed to a plan where Alenko arranged the chair on the ground, brake activated, and she sat on the edge of the shuttle and scooted into it. Silly, maybe, but better than weak.

They set up in a field outside of London relatively clear of debris. There was still grass, dotted here and there with clover, the view accompanied by the faint drone of insects. It was jarring after weeks of nothing but images of destruction from Earth. It seemed like half the turian fleet turned out to see Garrus off. The official state funeral would take place on Palaven, whenever the long FTL food haul got there, but for most of the people he fought alongside, this memorial was the end.

They stood in stolid rows. Here and there was a human face, or more rarely an asari or salarian, even one batarian. Shepard caught sight of the Normandy crew stationed near an aisle. Some of the old Cerberus crew, and even some of the surviving Alliance from the SR1, stood with them. She guessed nobody bothered with background checks when volunteers signed up for the resistance. Even Wrex came to pay his respects, though he was near the front, with the rest of those slated for eulogies. His request caused something of a stir in the hierarchy, but given how the krogan helped hold Palaven, they weren't in a position to refuse.

Shepard wheeled herself towards the mourners, ignoring the reporters' camera mechs and terse questions alike. Eventually, she'd have to deal with them, but not today. Alenko squeezed her hand and left her as they passed their crew, and she went on alone to take the place reserved for her.

The ceremonies were as sad and tedious as any funeral. There was a simple podium wired for sound, and a table holding the closed sarcophagus. Shepard was given to understand that what remains existed were in no state for viewing. Generals and diplomats who'd barely known Garrus spoke first, their generic, pre-approved speeches as hollow as their voices. Shepard turned off her translator. The human voice was not equipped for turian speech, but her N7 training had required her to learn to understand it, along with the most common dialect of asari. Translators could be blocked electronically or fail at inopportune moments. Concentrating on the foreign language kept her mind from wandering down darker roads.

Wrex's speech nearly made her laugh out loud. Only the presence of mind to bite her lip, hard, saved her. He clearly didn't care for turian customs or currying turian favor. Indeed, he took the opportunity to put the boot in more than a few times, with obvious delight. But there was nothing but respect for Garrus in what he said- even if it was the backhanded kind of krogan respect she'd come to appreciate more than the ordinary kind.

Then it was her turn.

There was silence as Shepard slowly wheeled herself to the podium. She looked out over the sea of people, all eyes turned to her expectantly. She took a breath. "I hope you'll forgive me if I don't get up."

It wasn't a joke. She knew it was a sign of disrespect in many cultures. The quiet words sank into the crowd. Shepard folded her hands on her lap and looked up at the clouds of Earth, gathering the last of her thoughts. For a second she could almost see a glass bottle spinning in the air. _Maybe I should have let him win after all._

"Once upon a time, in a different life," she began. Childish, but somehow it felt right. "Three marines walked into the middle of a galactic mess they couldn't begin to understand. It led them to a young turian C-Sec officer who just happened to be investigating a high-profile spectre named Saren Arturius. His superiors ordered him to close the case. They told him it was an embarrassment to question Saren's judgment. But this C-Sec officer couldn't let it go when he knew wrong was being done on his watch. It didn't matter that those hurt weren't turians or even Citadel residents. He gave the three humans what they needed, though it cost him his career, because there was never any personal sacrifice too great for him to make if it served the greater good. I don't know any story that describes what we all lost here today better than that."

Shepard licked her lips, cleared her throat. You could hear a pin drop. "I was fortunate to call Garrus Vakarian a close friend. Even when he didn't know what to do, even when he made mistakes, he tried to find the right way. We didn't always agree, but we always respected that quality in each other. His humor, his camaraderie and his perspective kept the Normandy afloat in some of her darkest hours, and he'd go to the wall to defend those to whom he'd given his trust. What he taught me was what allowed us to forged alliances with such a diversity of people to defend Earth against the reapers. He was the friend everyone wanted to have, and the man everyone wanted to be. There's nobody I'd rather have at my back.

"That's the reason we're all here today. Because when the allied forces of the galaxy headed into the hell of reaper-occupied London, I asked Garrus to have our backs. And he didn't think twice before promising to do exactly that." She looked up from her lap and out over the crowd. It came to her suddenly that this was the first she'd spoken of those final hours. It felt…odd, hearing it out loud. Like something that happened to someone else. "There were not more than thirty of us left in that final charge. And we knew, as we raced down that hill, the only strategy we had left was the hope that we'd give the reaper too many targets to hit everyone. I was… lucky to be one of only two who made it to our objective. When this memorial is over, I'll go back home to the people who love me, hurt but whole, while Garrus will go back to the people who loved him in a sarcophagus and a state funeral, and that will never seem entirely fair. But Garrus is the last person who would ever feel bitter about his fate. He was happy to serve."

Her voice rose a little. "The turians have lost one of their greatest ambassadors and soldiers, but the people of the galaxy have lost one of their finest heroes. Cold comfort though it is, I hope his father and his sister can take pride in the fact that Garrus' sacrifice insured the future of nothing less than all life in our world."

Shepard wheeled herself to the side of the crystalline pod, and laid her hand on it, looking down into its opaque depths. Then she said, almost to herself, too quiet for the crowd, "Spirits guide you on your last great adventure, my friend. You better be saving that drink for me."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Shepard closed the panel and watched GARRUS VAKARIAN flicker into life on the Normandy's memorial wall. She sat back a bit and folded her arms, rereading each name, holding each face in her mind. She was good with faces and stories. _The married couple, Rosamund and Talitha, who were just trying to pay for college. Abishek, who kept a picture of his son taped to his console in the CIC. _These were her crew, her duty to lead and protect to the best of her ability. Every commander had to accept that someday, she was going to lose people, maybe even sacrifice people, but it didn't make them any less her responsibility.

Some were closer than others. Her eyes lingered on MIRANDA LAWSON, her very own Dr. Frankenstein. Miranda never understood Shepard's lack of gratitude for restoring her life, or her hostility towards Cerberus. Miranda's ability to brush off the terrorists' many indiscretions as isolated incidents rather than evidence of a pattern of thinking pervading the whole organization defied belief. But in the end, she finally saw the Illusive Man and his machinations for what they were. They both had. In her own way, Miranda was as lost as Shepard, trying to come to terms with the devil's bargain she'd made to protect the things she loved, and what had been done to her without her consent by her father. Shepard never met a ballsier woman. She was happy, in a bittersweet way, that they'd parted as friends instead of rivals.

There were uneven footsteps in the hall, and Joker limped up alongside her.

"Hey commander," he said, though his voice lacked its usual chipper sarcasm. He wore a walking cast on his left leg.

She tore her attention from the board and tried to smile. "Long time no see, Joker."

He pointed with his chin. "I added EDI's name. I hope that's ok."

"She was part of the crew, and she saved all our lives more times than I can remember. She's earned it."

"It's getting awfully crowded on the board."

Shepard sat back, feeling at once wistful and very old. "Yes, it is."

They were both quiet for a time. Then Joker said, "They don't know what to do with all the bodies."

"What's this?" Her confusion was obvious.

He cleared his throat. "There's…well, billions of bodies in all the destroyed cities. The husks at least turn to ash so there's no clean-up there, but with the rest, it's starting to cause problems with disease. Burying them will ruin the groundwater and burning them all at once could reverse a lot of the atmo clean-up they did in the twenty-first century, bring back global warming, assuming all the destruction hasn't already. There's just so many of them. Some of the brass is talking about ferrying them to space and dumping them in the sun."

"God, that's grim." She shuddered. "Any word on the final death count?"

"We'll never know. But they think it could be higher than two-thirds. About half of those were processed, so it makes it harder to count."

Over seven billion people. "It'll never be the same, will it."

"No, commander. It won't. But it's better than no future at all." Joker bit his lip. "Commander, can I ask you something?"

She frowned. "Of course. What is it?"

"Did you know- I mean, when they were building the crucible, when you got up to the Citadel and fired it- did you know what it was going to do?"

"We knew it was designed to eliminate the reaper threat," Shepard said slowly. "I think we all assumed that would take the form of destroying them, but no, we didn't really understand how it worked. We were desperate."

He stared at the board. "Did you know what it was going to do to EDI?"

"Joker-" She laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry about EDI. She was a friend, too. I wasn't sure what effect it would have, but she was based on reaper technology. I don't know if she told you- we found logs from her creation in Cerberus' headquarters."

"Would you have done it if you knew?"

"You won't like the answer."

"Commander, she was a _person_."

"She was a soldier on this ship. She chose that," Shepard shot back, a note of warning in her tone. "It wouldn't have affected my decision for the same reasons you would have flown the Normandy into Harbringer if it would've taken out reaper command and control."

He smoldered. She let him. If he wanted to be angry with her, so be it. EDI's death was on her head like so many others. "What do you want to do for her?"

That startled him. "What?"

"You're right, she was a person," Shepard said patiently. "People get funerals. Think about it, and when you make a decision I'll arrange it."

She clapped him on the back and left him to his thoughts.

The elevator took her down to the shuttle bay. Unlike the rest of the ship, most of the wall panels were still in place, and there were only a handful of cable bundles running across the floor. EDI was deeply integrated into every ship system; retrofitting it to fly without her guidance was proving problematic, especially because Joker was rejecting any suggestion of installing a ship VI, as was standard throughout the Alliance fleet.

Supplies of all kinds were stacked against the walls, and there were more cots than she remembered set up between the boxes. It made sense that while the ship was grounded planetside, the crew had given up operating in three shifts, which put them short on beds. Vega managed to drag himself to attention and fire off a half-assed salute as she rolled onto the floor. "Commander! Damn good to see you, ma'am."

She nodded at the crates. "This your doing, LT?"

He grinned. "Been scavenging what I can. The ship needs a lot of patching. Everyone wants to see her in the air again. Can't wait to rejoin the fight. And rations are tight- unless someone goes down there every week and makes a fuss, nobody gets fed. Someone's gotta look out for the crew, y'know?"

"Appreciate it." Shepard meant it more than she could say. Her crew was her family. She edged up to the desk and started fidgeting with the various pieces of crap Vega kept by his console. "So you've been holding down the fort?"

"Well." He paused. "You were out of commission, and Major Alenko had his hands full looking out for you, which left me and Joker as the only ranking Alliance personnel aboard ship. I mean, the aliens are great and all, but they don't answer to anyone."

Shepard picked up something that looked like a cross between a spatula and a basketball and turned it over, mystified. "Good work."

Vega answered her silent question. "Kind of an improvised com buoy, for close-range communications. Tali'Zorah's idea. It'll let the shuttle talk to the Normandy with minimal interference and no hijacking. She's been working almost round the clock since you blew those things to hell, Commander."

_Garrus and Tali in the battery. Tali joking that it wasn't serious. Garrus' amusement. God. I gave her the name of my ship and then I killed her boyfriend. _ "I thought she'd go back to the flotilla."

"Nope. She didn't want to leave before speaking with you." Vega scratched his head. "Err, Commander? It's been fun and all, playing skipper, but you think you're going to be sticking around?"

"I've got orders to return to the Chimborazo within twenty four hours. Apparently I need continual medical attention." She shook her head. "I don't know, Vega. I need to talk to Chakwas. I want to be down here doing my job, but I don't want to be stuck like this forever, either."

"Understood, ma'am." He saluted again.

Next stop was the med bay. Her bandage was soaked through and itchy as hell. If nothing else, the sheer irritation would keep her on her doctor's schedule.

Chakwas wasted no time getting her up on a table in spite of her protests. "I've been reading your files. The security clearance required for working on this ship is worth something after all, and Major Alenko fed me what I couldn't access. Those doctors of yours aren't worth the paper their degrees are printed on."

"Why's that, doc?" She eyed the console warily as Chakwas fed it a rapid series of commands and her scanners sprang to life.

"They wouldn't return my calls." She clucked her tongue. "If they want anyone more knowledgeable about the Lazarus Project and the nature of all your…alterations, they'd have to speak to Dr. Lawson's ghost. I've got some diagnostics I've wanted to try, a theory about how to make that cybernetic package in your back sing again. But it will take some time."

"How much time?"

"How do you feel about an extended stay?" Chakwas smiled at her.

"I've got to eat this sterile protein crap." Shepard lay back, relaxing a hair. "I don't know if we can work it into our dinner rotation."

She tried to stay still as Chakwas went about the messy and uncomfortable work of changing out her surgical bandage. They had to patch so many leaks that they ended up making one large incision into her abdominal cavity, to give them plenty of room to root around. It was an ugly thing, angry red and oozing, only just held together with large black staples, and it hurt like hell whenever she bent in any direction. Once she was in position, it faded to more of a dull ache, courtesy of the damn pain meds. Shepard didn't like them, but a few days without them proved exhausting to the point it impacted her ability to heal. Chakwas, however, eyed the cut with overtones of approval, so Shepard assumed it was healing as scheduled.

At this point in her life, her skin was a canvas of networked scars, some ordinary, some cybernetic-induced. She never thought she'd welcome the rude orange glow, but now it seemed like the very picture of health, a sign that all was well in her body, and it was the quiescent ones she regarded darkly. There were broad shiny patches of artificial skin now, too, grafts from her burns, slowly being eaten away by natural healing. It would take over a year for that work to finish, but the temporary polymers would prevent infection and allow her to live more-or-less normally, so long as they didn't tear.

Shepard stared up at the ceiling idly as Chakwas prodded her injuries. "I can't shake this feeling that I'm going to deeply regret certain lifestyle decisions in about twenty years."

"Don't be silly, Commander." Chakwas gave her an evil smile. "With a body as beat up as yours, I'd be astonished if you weren't feeling every last one of these old injuries inside ten years."

"Real funny, doc." There were fine cracks in the paint of the med bay ceiling. She made a mental note to get it fixed. Seeing the Normandy like this, in total disrepair, was like an itch she couldn't scratch. "I'm still getting my bearings. How sick is my ship?"

The doctor pursed her lips. "That's a question better suited to Adams. They've been replacing and rerouting cables to get around the problem of EDI. Even worse than that, however, is that the Normandy was part of Sword when EDI went offline. Joker is a hell of a pilot, but it wasn't a soft landing. Her bones are sound but there was extensive infrastructure damage." She gave Shepard a sidelong glance. "Rather like her commanding officer."

Shepard ignored the jab. "And the crew?"

"A few minor injuries from the emergency landing. Everyone was in battle harness, so that minimized the damage." Chakwas shook her head. "As you might expect, most of our current problems are in the area of mental health. Everyone's desperate for information about their homes and families. Lieutenant Cortez got co-opted by Alliance Command for supply runs between the camps, and he's been collecting requests and trying to learn what he can for the others. In some ways, I think the colonials like Specialist Traynor have the worst of it. There's been nothing public since the relay went down."

"I've got higher priority clearance- I'll get on the com and see what I can do."

"I'm sure we'd all be grateful." She taped the new bandage into place. "What about your family? Any news?"

"My mom made it. Nobody's heard from my dad since we lost Mars. It is what it is." Shepard craned her neck. "You about done?"

"For the moment. I'll want to run more specific diagnostics when you're up for it- we need to determine what allows some signals to pass through the implant while others are stalled."

Shepard frowned. "Any reason we can't do it now? This problem is a pain in the ass."

"I know it doesn't come naturally to you, Commander, but you need to take it easy. This isn't like when you woke up in Cerberus custody after two years of medical attention and healing. Push too hard, and you'll end up permanently injured or worse. You're accustomed to ignoring pain and injury- you're much more fragile than you feel."

"Trust me, I'm the last person in the world who wants this to be permanent." Even with the potential for recovery, these limitations were driving her crazy.

"Good. Try to remember that when you're tempted to start shooting at things," Chakwas replied, dryly.

Shepard eased herself to a seated position, working her legs over the edge of the table and stretching, cautiously. It wasn't true paralysis. She still had sensation, and intermittent motion. What she lacked was the fine motor control necessary for balance, and movement reliable enough to get any use from her legs. Almost as if the implant were fritzing out, though unlike the com she doubted a good whap would fix the problem.

At that moment, the med bay hatch split into its five segments and Tali'Zorah vas Normandy stepped through the door. "Dr. Chakwas, I was wondering if you had any peroxide I could borrow- Shepard?"

Tali blinked at her behind the purple mask. Chakwas cleared her throat. "I just received shipment of some new supplies. It's still in the shuttle bay. Now's as good a time as any to go have a look."

Shepard steeled herself. She'd been dreading this moment even more than the memorial itself. Garrus was beyond her ability to hurt. "Hey."

"Shepard," Tali said again, her shock fading a bit. "Thank you for what you said at the memorial. It was everything I wanted to say, but I couldn't come up with the words."

Her throat closed. "I'm so sorry, Tali."

It was harder than EDI. Shepard thought after those logs even EDI understood, given the probable nature of the Crucible, that there might be no way for her to survive the death of the reapers, though they never spoke of it. The machines were too entwined, and EDI had taken additional reaper tech into herself in the course of their mission.

Tali held up a hand to forestall her words. "We talked about this, the last night before we came to Sol. Garrus didn't want to die, but if he had to anyway, he wanted it to be doing something that mattered." Her voice choked a little. "He would have thought this was a good death."

"I wish I could have done more to protect him." And there it was again, the gnawing secret guilt, just like on Virmire. _Javik volunteered. He wanted to go down fighting the reapers, like his kin before him. So that was simple. We both know, any other mission, I would have taken Kaidan as my second, and I had good reasons, valid reasons, military reasons to hold him back- but the truth was I didn't think I could live without him and I didn't want to try. Nobody from the Hammer frontlines was likely to come back alive._

Shepard looked at the floor between her feet. _How can I even look at her when we both know it should be __**my **__boyfriend who's dead, not hers? _

"We can't keep guessing at what-ifs," Tali said, almost as if reading her mind. The quarian sat down beside her on the hospital table. "Garrus wouldn't want that. I don't want that. He loved you, Shepard. You were a battle-sister to him. He would have fought you tooth and nail if you tried to leave him behind."

She had to laugh, despite herself, because it was true. Tali's mask was too opaque to see a smile, but it came through in her voice.

"Calibrations," she hissed, and they both lost it, giggling until they were out of breath. "_Keelah_, do you remember him making up those wild stories with James to pass the time?"

"Or exchanging bad jokes with Joker. Do you remember that time he wanted to buy Grunt a stripper?"

"I don't think anyone leaves a krogan stripclub alive." Tali leaned back. "All those damn questions about the flotilla. I got so tired of answering."

"I asked him about our odds against the collectors one time. He replied that they managed to kill me once and all it seemed to do was piss me off." Shepard shook her head. "It's stupid, but it was just about the only thing anyone said during that mission that made me feel any better. More like myself."

"He was a good friend."

"None better," Shepard agreed. They sat a moment in comfortable silence. "So what are your plans, Tali'Zorah?"

"I resigned from the admiralty. I don't know what the quarian people need, but it's not a geth expert, and it's not someone who, in the hardest of times, would rather be with her friends than her people. I'm serving, but in a different capacity. It's good for everyone." She glanced sidelong at Shepard. "Assuming there's still a place for me on this ship, anyway."

"So long as she's mine." Shepard smiled. "Us vas Normandys have to stick together. There aren't enough of us to spread around."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A few hours later, as evening was drawing in, Shepard found herself in her cabin. Maneuvering past the step was simpler than she thought, though getting back up it might prove impossible. The VI fish feeder was just about empty. She rooted around under the tank, looking for the refill packs.

"Hey," said a quiet voice from the doorway. Alenko leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You have a good time with the crew?"

"It was good, finally getting to see them again, and take stock of the ship." She spent the whole afternoon talking with the Normandy staff. Her to-do list was already about three miles long, but that was so familiar it was almost more comforting than stressful. "We're…going to be here awhile. There's a lot of damage."

"Well, I can't say I wasn't hoping for a better prognosis, if not exactly expecting it." He took the bag from her and levered it into the hopper at the top of the tank. Shepard tried not to resent it.

Instead, she changed topics. "Did you find your team?"

"Alive and kicking. Mostly." He frowned, looking as tired as she felt. "We lost two of the injured since I last checked in, but that should be the end of it. Everyone else is either healthy or on the mend. They tipped me off on a few things we should probably look into. Or at least make sure somebody looks into."

"What kinds of things?"

"Your favorite asari didn't make it off the Citadel. Or, if she did, she's hiding it well."

"Oh, hell." Shepard buried her face in her hand briefly, though not with grief. "Let me guess. Her private army of thugs and brigands is no longer playing nice?"

"They took over Brazil."

"What?" Shepard blinked.

"Exactly what I said." He rolled his eyes. "Apparently, when they looked down at the destruction of Earth, their first thought was 'hey, let's go establish our own country!' Hopefully the infighting will them before their plans progress much further, but who knows."

"And everybody's been too busy to do something about it. Great." She tagged the feeder and was satisfied to see the fish swarm to the surface to gulp down the food. The hamster, she discovered, had been relocated to engineering under the care of Donnelly, where it quickly achieved the status of mascot.

They watched the fish. Alenko stood next to her, hand running through her hair, an old unconscious habit she enjoyed too much to call attention to, for fear he'd feel awkward and stop. She put her arm around his legs and leaned against his hip. Having him with her these last few months was the best thing about them. Shepard didn't know how much longer it could last- she was very much on medical leave, and he had skills that were very much needed in the fleet- but she was savoring every minute. At the end of the day, for herself personally, this was all she really hoped for out of a victory. Both of them standing here, safe, on her ship.

Together.

Alenko cleared his throat and looked down at her, quietly. "The last shuttle's leaving in thirty."

At least he broached the subject first. And from his tone, he already knew what she was going to say. "Chakwas tells me she wants to take over my medical care."

"The Normandy's sick bay isn't a hospital. And you need to be monitored around the clock." There wasn't much fight in the words.

"So I'll sleep in one of her beds." She hugged him closer and looked up. "This is my home, Kaidan. I'm not leaving. They need me here."

"I know." He smiled. "It was worth a try.


	7. Chapter 7

_[Quick note: I really appreciate the reads and the feedback I've been getting! It's very rewarding to know somebody is actually enjoying your work. This experience has seriously bitten me with the fanfic bug again, and if anyone would like to read more about Nathaly Shepard, I've started chronicling her adventures from the start in Mass Effect: Beginnings.]_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Nathaly Shepard planted her face deep into the comforter on Liara's bed with a tiny groan of mixed pain and relief. She was beginning to understand why Chakwas was concerned her cybernetic tests would wear her patient out. Right now, it felt like every artificial nerve was twanging like a guitar string pulled too tight. Glyph buzzed attentively- annoyingly- about her head.

From her place before her console, Liara called, "Rough day?"

"There weren't any reapers in it, and nobody died, so…" Shepard lifted her head a few inches. "At least, I'm assuming I'm not dead. Yet. Why the hell did you let Cerberus revive me with all this crap in me, again?"

"Because we love you, and we can't live without you," Liara replied with syrupy sarcasm, but she ended the sentence with a smile. "I'm surprised Chakwas let you out of the med bay like this."

"I promised not to go far. I was going to scream if I had to spend another second on those tables." They were flat, cushionless, and murder on her shoulders. She lowered her head back into the bedding, muffling her voice. "Thanks for letting me crash here for a few hours."

"It's not as though I'm getting much use out of it." The asari frowned and tapped at her console. "Some extra-Sol information is finally trickling in. My networks were damaged by the invasion, but ending it nearly destroyed them."

"So this is the end of the shadow broker?"

"Not quite." Liara thought a second. "I hope not. Everyone needs information more than anything right now. I'm good at finding it."

Shepard exhaled and shifted herself so she was watching Liara, in profile, what she could see with her hair hanging in her face. She'd kept it short since Lazarus, not wanting to deal with the trouble of trying to keep it out of her eyes inside a helmet, but slowly the look was growing on her. Unfortunately, haircuts weren't a priority for coma patients, and she found herself debating between a hack job with scissors in her bathroom, or begging a few bobby pins off of Traynor.

For now, she swiped the offending strands away with her hand. "Any word from Feron?"

Liara shook her head once, lips pressed thin. "I admit to some concern for him."

"You care about him a lot," Shepard stated. There was more than a little fishing in the comment. Liara always managed to evade pinning down the exact nature of their relationship.

Sadly, Liara once again declined to take the bait. "He's a very good friend."

"The way we're very good friends, or the way I called Kaidan a close friend when I got questions from reporters about his spectre promotion?" she needled.

"Shepard." Liara was exasperated.

"Oh, fine." She sighed. "I'll just be over here. Bored and in pain without any decent gossip to distract me."

Liara laughed despite herself. "That does remind me. I've been going through those files you recovered from Cerberus' base."

"Yeah?" Shepard disguised the sudden sinking in her stomach, the same trepidation she felt whenever the headquarters was mentioned. It was funny, in a way. She spent the better part of a year willing to give anything to know which methods, exactly, Project Lazarus used on each part of her, and once she found out, she wished she never looked.

"They documented every piece of reaper technology they discovered in excruciating detail. Some of it might be reproducible, if it got into the right hands. It would make servicing some of your implants easier."

"No," Shepard said flatly.

"It goes beyond that, though." Liara turned the display towards her. "Shepard, they've got schematics for their AI hardware. Not just that ridiculous doll, I'm talking about core functionality."

Shepard stared. "You're talking about EDI."

"It's possible, if we were very careful, and if we got very lucky with the fried drives in the server room-"

"No." Shepard's scowl was immediate. "Not in a thousand years."

Liara was quick to protest. "Shouldn't we at least investigate, in an academic sense, the possibility of-"

"No." Shepard raised her head further off the bed. "What is it with you Liara? Can't you let the dead rest in peace?"

The asari winced, but forged onward, making her point. "She might not be dead, Shepard."

"That tech," she replied, pointing at the screen, "Led to Eva as easily as it led to EDI. EDI's experiences with us, with this ship, the choices she made, that's what made her our friend EDI. Without those, she's just another unshackled AI, and I have met damn few of those who meant me anything but harm. What's more, that tech led to the _freaking reapers_. We're not bringing it back into the world. Not to save a hundred EDIs."

Liara was clearly taken aback by the finality in her words. "I'd love to hear you say that to Joker."

"I will, if you tell him about this. Personally, I think it would be cruel." Shepard lay back. "You ought to delete those files entirely."

"That's why we'd have to make sure to recover the memories," Liara argued, switching tactics. "There may be enough intact in EDI's damaged equipment to make her… herself."

"The false Legion we met on Rannoch had knowledge of the real Legion's activities. It felt like those experiences happened to someone else. They had no meaning for it. Legion sure as hell would not have tried to kill me." Shepard wasn't hurting for nightmare material, but the memory of the geth's cold hand closing on her throat, yanking her off her feet, the coldness in its gaze- that one was particularly special.

That final conversation with Anderson came back to her, as it so often did. _Not everything I've done is something to be proud of._ Perhaps Legion least of all.

Miranda was a pill that entire mission, after they traversed the Omega 4 relay. Enough people wouldn't listen to her to put her in charge of anything meaningful, and god knew the only member of the crew Miranda herself would obey was Shepard. So Shepard kept her close. It was a good decision, until that hallway with the swarms… She chose Legion as part of her team because she suspected- hoped- the swarms would have no interest in a synthetic. Shepard never thought a geth could sound afraid, but there was a terror that haunted her in Legion's cry for help as Miranda's barrier failed and the swarms carried him into the depths of the Collector Base.

Shepard wished there was anything she could have done to explain. She would have saved them both, quarian and geth alike, if she could, but there was too much old hatred and too much mistrust to make either side see reason, and she promised Tali her homeworld too many times. Shepard swore it over the body of her dead father. And she couldn't make herself trust the reaper technology the geth were using to achieve sentience, not over the strength of the quarian people, even if they'd been idiots to pursue this war.

The geth's fingers about her neck were memorable not because she was close enough to death to feel its cold wind at her spine, but because there was a half of her that knew she deserved it. It hadn't felt like that with the rachni.

Liara, not privileged to Shepard's inner thoughts, merely sighed. It was the kind of sound she made when she knew there was no point in arguing further now, but Shepard doubted this was the last of the subject. The asari switched topics with the ease of instinctive diplomacy. "The asari councilor- the new one, I mean- is pushing the fleet to chart a course to Thessia as soon as the relay repair work is complete."

_That's seven councilors I've killed- six on their own ships and one with a bullet to the chest. Hell, EIGHT if you count being forced to shoot Anderson. I could make a killing as an assassin with a resume like that. _For some reasons Shepard found this immensely funny in a morbid way and it momentarily distracted her from the subject at hand. "Wait- I thought all the relays were damaged, not just the one around Sol."

"The terminal relay is simply a marking point. Its own mass and energy signature distort the surrounding space in a particular way that is recognizable to a linked relay, and since the eezo cores remain intact, that hasn't changed. The Thessian relay doesn't need to be functional for the Charon relay to tunnel to it, though it will need repairs in order for the fleet to leave."

The physics was beyond Shepard. She pushed her hundred other questions about how exactly that would work aside and focused on the part she could understand. "Doesn't the councilor know Thessia is lost? And that the quarians and turians are going to starve if we don't head for Palaven?"

"The thought is that small repair crews can disperse to the most critical relays and apply what we've learned here, while the core of the fleet travels to the most military-critical destinations. Of course, fixing the Palaven relay is high on the list." Liara folded her hands in her lap. "Most asari are desperate to know how much of the home world may be left, Shepard. Of all the fragmented transmissions I've received, none originate with that system."

"I understand how they feel." Even with a link to Anderson during the resistance, when he chose to exercise it, news of Earth was scarce for much of the time the _Normandy _spent building an armada. Some days, Shepard thought the lack of any real, tangible information might drive her insane.

"Do you?" Liara was skeptical. "Your world lived. They've seen the vids from Thessia right before the fall. They've read our report. I don't think you do understand."

Not for the first time, Shepard thought it was a mistake to have brought Liara along on their desperate run to the asari temple. True, she was an expert on both the protheans and the asari and that knowledge proved invaluable, and it was also true that there was little chance of Liara allowing herself to be left behind- Shepard sure as hell wouldn't have twiddled her thumbs on the _Normandy _on a mission to Earth. But Liara's rage lingered, bubbling just beneath her skin in a way that was totally at odds with everything Shepard knew about her. She was always calm, collected, thoughtful. Even the uncertainty over Feron's fate back on Illium only hardened her.

Now, Shepard felt every second that passed was one moment closer to an inevitable explosion. She rather wished Liara would get it over with. If nothing else, it might make help her begin to heal.

She set her head back on the covers and closed her eyes. Her back was throbbing. The hum of Liara's dozens of terminals and Glyph's twitterpations in combination with the medications made her eyelids heavy, and slowly lulled her to sleep.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"- don't know when the crew will be ready. Hackett thinks a few days," Alenko was saying.

Shepard's head was muzzy from the nap. She slept so much these days, she felt like a complete slouch. Chakwas assured her that her energy levels would return to normal once her therapy was complete and she was weaned off the meds. Alenko and Liara were lounging in chairs across from each other, at the far end of the room, talking quietly.

"So the fleet's really on the move?" Liara's interest was keen.

"Just about." Alenko paused. "He has an… errand he wants me to run first."

"What kind of errand?" Shepard sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes.

"You missed dinner," Liara chided, getting up. "I saved you a plate, in the mess. I'll be right back with it." She hurried from the room.

"That can't be right. It was only just after lunch when I fell asleep." At that same moment, her stomach rumbled, betraying the truth.

"It's past eight," Alenko said, at once amused and concerned. "If Chakwas is pushing you too hard-"

"She's not," Shepard answered shortly. There was nothing she wanted more than to be back on her feet and she wasn't going to do or say anything that might delay the process. His doubtful expression made her hurry to redirect the conversation. "What's this mission Hackett wants you to run?"

Alenko glanced over his shoulder, verifying the hatch closed securely behind the asari. "Whatever the Crucible did wiped out all the Reapers in this system, and we have to assume the other systems as well, or they'd be on us by now- with or without the relays. That includes the husks. But not all of Cerberus was indoctrinated."

That caught her by surprise. "Cerberus? But I shot the Illusive Man. Their leadership is gone."

"Doesn't mean the cells left are giving up." Alenko shrugged. "They know the drill. There's nothing but a bullet waiting for reaper sympathizers anywhere in this galaxy. Might as well die fighting."

"Cerberus." Shepard felt ill. "Are we never going to be free of these bastards?"

"Well, that's sort of what Hackett's trying to accomplish. He's been sending squads of marines to Mars and our other settlements throughout Sol as a counterinsurgency," Alenko cleared his throat. "What's left of our outposts, anyway. He's not comfortable taking the bulk of the fleet through the relay while there's still pockets of enemies holding out."

"I wouldn't be either." That could be just the rallying cry the Cerberus holdouts needed to make life difficult for the survivors. "So what's the plan?"

He didn't say anything for a long moment. The other shoe dropped, and she got an expected but still unwelcome sinking feeling. "It's you, right? You're the plan."

"There's a group of them holed up under the tent on Mars. Apparently, there's still Alliance resistance there as well. He wants me to take my team in and resolve the situation."

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah." He ran his fingers through his hair. "The _Normandy's_ still grounded, and you're still injured. I'm the only spectre he's got. As he reminded me this morning." Alenko coughed. "At some length."

In truth, Hackett's generosity and the fact that the fleet was stuck were the only reasons they had this much time together. Shepard still wasn't used to thinking of Kaidan as a spectre in his own right, with his own squad and his own responsibilities. It wasn't that she didn't believe he was capable. A lot happened in the last three years and she was still playing catch-up, psychologically. "And… after that?"

"If the fleet leaves Sol before the _Normandy _is airborne…" Alenko trailed off. "I made clear to Hackett that whenever you're operational, I intend to return to this ship. We make a good team, professionally, he can't dispute that. And the _Normandy's_ recon capabilities will be essential in the coming months. He'll need both of us at the forefront of whatever's happening."

"We've been running a skeleton crew since we left Earth. We have some extra beds." Shepard was tentative. "We could use some more biotics."

He chuckled. "That'd be an interesting chain of command to work out. We'll see."

She smiled, wryly, in agreement. "When?"

"Three days. Five at the outside."

Shepard nodded. There was nothing else to do no matter how much she hated it. They simply weren't wired in a way that would allow them to neglect their duty, either of them. "Okay." She licked her lips. "Kaidan… about Hellas…"

"Your dad. I know."

"I realize it can't be a priority, but-"

"Nathaly." His tone was soothing, understanding, a touch impatient. "_I know_. I'll keep my eyes open. I wish you were coming with me."

"That makes two of us," she said, unhappily.

The hatch split open, and Liara came in carrying what passed for a meal these days. Shepard was finally off the doctor-ordered diet, but Earth's agriculture was a mess. Fresh food of any kind was difficult to come by, and that situation was unlikely to change for another month, when the first of the crops they hastened to plant while she was sleeping came into maturation. The reapers redefined scorched earth.

Still, she accepted the plate full of dull green and gray rations, and did her best to do it justice. There were still battles left to fight, waiting for them in the dark of the galaxy, before this war was over. Shepard fully intended to meet them head-on.


	8. Chapter 8

Shepard straddled the chair backwards in the middle of the cargo bay, an audience to the ongoing chaos. Alliance engineers, recently released from the Crucible project, finally worked their way down the list of emergencies to the _Normandy_. She supposed she should be flattered that her frigate rated so high, compared to all of the projects waiting on Earth and within the damaged fleet, but in reality, all she felt was impatience.

Adams, of course, was in the thick of things, as were Daniels and Donnelly. They forged quite the team over the last several months. Tali was there as well, though she was quieter, listening more than talking at the new crew, taking everything in. Shepard could tell from the way she stood that she was interested, though. It was good to for her to have a substantial project again.

Traynor was arguing with one of the techs off to the side. Shepard stopped trying to follow their debate five minutes in- something about cable bandwidth. Every so often, one of the engineers would ask her about the ship's history or for access to subsystems, and she answered when she could and directed them to the appropriate person when she couldn't. In the back of her mind, she was tabulating the resources they brought aboard, wondering what that king's ransom could have done for Earth, but it was her ship. She needed her to fly.

The last several days lived up to the old adage that it never rained but it poured. Her therapy finally turned a corner, allowing her to walk further than across the room as long as she didn't try anything too fancy, and the pain in her synthetic systems was fading. The new organ tissue grew stronger every day. The _Normandy _was finally getting the repairs she required, and in a not unrelated event, Shepard could have sworn she saw Joker smile just that morning. Kaidan was leaving tomorrow. Everything was happening at once. In truth, that was exactly how Shepard liked it. When there was too much to do, there was no time to dwell.

Almost as if summoned by her thoughts, Alenko appeared next to her. She grinned up at him. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." He looked around the bay, both surprised and impressed. "They're very efficient. They've already got each of the subsystems mapped out with a plan of action."

"Yep." Shepard was smug, satisfied. "Say what you want about Alliance bureaucracy, but when it counts, they sure know how to hustle. Maybe she'll be spaceworthy before the fleet leaves."

Alenko made a non-committal noise, unwilling to dampen her optimism. "Do you want to get some air? You've been down here all day."

She glanced out over the hum of activity, decided they could live without her for an hour or so, and used the back of the chair to lever herself to her feet. "Sure. Chakwas says I need to stretch my legs every couple of hours anyway."

They made their way out into the early evening sunshine. After the anthill of the cargo bay, the quiet rubble of London was almost peaceful. It rained that morning. The chunks of concrete and the dirt between them were still damp. Here and there, weeds poked up through the debris, vivid green against the beige, a kind of life not even the reapers could stop.

Kaidan took her hand and started picking a path through the network of churned asphalt that used to be a street. She let him lead her on, though not without a hint of hesitation. "Kaidan, I can't go far, remember? Unless you're planning to carry me piggy-back."

"Perish the thought." He squeezed her hand and grinned, quick and easy, exactly the look that always made her stomach fizz. "We're not going far. It's just like you said- good to stretch the legs."

They walked in comfortable silence for a minute or two, heading towards the river, past burned-out buildings and the husks of cars. Shepard let out a long breath. "You know, I'd never been to London either?"

"I'm still not sure either of us has. This isn't a city. This is an apocalypse." He bit his lip. "I was wondering if we could talk about, well, tomorrow."

"What about it?" Shepard didn't think there was anything else to say. Kaidan had his orders, just as she did. It was a crappy situation but nothing they didn't anticipate.

"Not really about tomorrow exactly. More about what comes after that." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "When we first started out, we were practically living together, as small a ship as the _Normandy _is. Then you died. And then we made up, and we were back to living on top of each other. And don't get me wrong, it was wonderful, but…"

It was easy enough to see what he was trying to say. "But you're worried about what it's going to be like with us light years apart."

Somewhat to her surprise, Kaidan shook his head. "Worried? No. If we can survive everything we've been through these past years, I doubt a little separation is going to kill us. It's just got me wondering where this is going."

_Ah, so that's it. _She crowded closer to him as they walked slowly, picking their way through the ruin. "Do you remember that shore leave we took, right after the Battle for the Citadel?"

"It'd be hard to forget." The look that accompanied his confirmation heated her blood and sent it racing around her veins, and made her wish her damn incision would hurry up and heal. With regard to some forms of exercise, Chakwas' prohibitions were quite specific, and strict. He asked, "What part are you talking about specifically?"

"The last day, we stayed up all night talking in our hotel room." They got back from that little bar on the beach close to midnight, and shuttle was leaving at 0400 the following morning. There was no real point in trying to sleep even if they were so inclined. "About how we wanted to play it, when we got back to the _Normandy_."

"Well, not only talking." He tucked his hand on her waist under her shirt, just enough to feel her skin against his fingertips, a rush of cold air and warm flesh against her side. "As I recall, we agreed that we needed to stay professional aboard ship, on duty, even though it was an open secret by then. We didn't want to give Anderson a reason to separate us or make the other crew uncomfortable."

For the most part, they managed it. Sure, there was the occasional stolen kiss, or more rarely, stolen hour or evening when they couldn't help themselves, but overall they were surprisingly, maddeningly disciplined. _The Alliance would be proud_, she thought, not without irony. "Do you remember what else I said?"

His smile proved that he did, but aloud he said, "Remind me."

Shepard turned her face towards him, her head close to his, her voice low. "I said that I was looking for you for a long time, and I wasn't going to let any bullshit bureaucracy take you away from me. That's still how I feel about it."

He turned his head and kissed her neck, and she paused in her step, more than happy to let him linger there, but to her disappointment he pulled away and resumed their walk, tugging at her hand. "It's not far now."

They wound their way through the remains of an alley, emerging on what must have been a an open promenade back before the war, overlooking the river walk below. The river itself was dark and sluggish, winding around the shells from a pair of dead reapers. The setting sun lent the water an eerie cast like old blood.

A block of concrete made and adequate bench. Shepard and Alenko crowded up on it despite the dampness, pleased to just sit awhile. Nobody lived in London anymore. The refugee camp on the outskirts was beyond full, but as for the city itself, they might as well have been the only two people for miles.

Kaidan had his arm around her, rubbing against her waist with his thumb, almost subconsciously, and said into the stillness, "God, I'm going to miss you."

She pressed into him and breathed into his ear. "My only regret is that I can't give you the farewell you deserve."

He chuckled, low, his lips moving against her hair. "We'll just have to settle for a proper hello the next time I see you."

Shepard would have been satisfied to continue in that vein, but Kaidan fell silent, seemingly content to hold her and stare out over the river, but something in him seemed restless. She sat up a bit and prodded him. "C'mon, what are you thinking about? Tell me."

He licked his lips, and said, hesitantly, "There was this restaurant, in Vancouver."

"It's always food with you," she teased. "What's so special about this restaurant? Best steak in town?"

"You had to see it." He swept his hand out in front of them. "Right on bay, right up against the water. They had this outdoor patio in the summers, gorgeous view. Great menu, too. You could sit and drink a beer and watch the boats come in at sundown."

"Sounds like a great spot." She gave the ruined promenade a rueful glance. "Beats the hell out of here, anyway."

Kaidan winced at that. "Yeah, well… It was a cedar deck. They had these lanterns on each of the tables. At night, the dark would swallow the sound of the other diners, and it was like each table became its own island of light. You could hear the waves lapping against the dock."

"I'm sure, in time, there will be good restaurants on the water in Vancouver again. I know it won't be the same, but maybe it'll be even better." Shepard looked over at him in confusion. "Why are you going on about this?"

He tilted his head up at the puffy pink clouds filling the evening sky, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "I thought- hoped, I guess- there would be an after. Once we took back Earth. That would be the end of it, no more reapers, no more war. It isn't really the best time-"

"Kaidan…" she started, meaning to reassure him, but he stopped her

"Just bear with me a moment. This is kind of hard." Kaidan sucked in a breath, composed himself, and turned towards her. "I know it's stupid, but I'm just trying to describe it, help you to see it, because…"

He trailed off for a second, wistful, and ran his hand back through his hair. "Well, because, when I realized that person was going to be you, that was… that restaurant was where I was going to propose to you, and right now this crappy view is the best I've got. So I thought maybe if I could paint it out loud for you…"

Shepard felt like all the wind was knocked out of her all at once. "What?"

"Well…" Kaidan dug through his pocket a moment, and came up with a silvery ring of braided metal wires, all slightly different hues. "It turns out restaurants aren't the only businesses that go under when your city gets toasted by reapers, so I sort of put this together with the soldering iron and some _Normandy _scrap from Daniels."

"You… you made me a ring out of my ship?" she stammered, floored. It was the only thing she could think to say.

He regained some of his composure, and gave her a quick silly grin. "To be fair, Nathaly, if someone asked you to pick between me and the ship, you'd have to think about it first."

Shepard stared at him. "It's perfect."

"Um, so." He held the ring out to her.

She swallowed, suddenly shy and nervous and excited all at once, and at last regained proper control of her words. She drew herself up. "You haven't actually asked me anything yet."

"Nathaly Shepard." Kaidan reached over, and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Will you marry me?"

Shepard looked him straight in the eye, and asked with a voice that shook only the tiniest bit, "What the hell took you so long?"

He laughed, she held out her hand, and he slid her makeshift ring on her finger and gave her just about the longest kiss of her life. Then they sat there, holding each other, giggling and giddy and leaking at the eyes, until the sun dipped so low in the sky that they had to leave or risk not finding their way home.

As the Normandy came into view, Kaidan looked over at her, ruefully, and said, "You know, I would've been just as happy with a simple y-"

She stopped him with a kiss. His arms slid around her, careful not to hold her too tightly and ruin a half dozen surgeries all at once, and when it was over they stood there a long moment with their heads resting on each others' shoulders.

Until abruptly Shepard drew back in the embrace, her hands sliding to his chest and her face a mask of puzzled, churning thought. "Wait a second. Vancouver was already destroyed when we left Earth. You knew that."

"It was certainly hard to miss."

Another wheel turned. "You were thinking about this before the invasion?"

"It's dark. We should go inside-"

Kaidan started towards the ship, but she wrapped her own arms around him to still him. "How long?"

He was embarrassed, but admitted, "About when we got to Alchera... Look, I'm not insane. I knew it was too early to know if we would work out, and there was no way of knowing if it would ever be the right thing, but… Nathaly, I've never met anyone like you. You're fearless and crazy and fiercely passionate about everything you do, and when I'm with you, I know I'm not alone. It didn't take all the other stuff two people have to work out in a relationship for me to realize that, if it was ever going to happen with anyone, it was going to be with you." He swallowed. "If it ever was the right time, I didn't want to miss it. I wanted to know what to do."

She held his face in both her hands, feeling his cheekbones against her thumbs and the stubble against her palms, and thought that she had never loved him more than in this moment. Softly, she said, "I'm not alone with you, either."

He nuzzled her ear. "Come on. It's dark."

"…I'd pick you over the ship."

She could feel him smile in the dark. "I know."


	9. Chapter 9

_Vega would find the only working car in London is a goddamned station wagon_, Shepard thought with disappointment as she drove through the gray morning, about a half-hour before dawn. The Kodiak was in too much demand to serve as a personal transport for the grounded _Normandy_, and the Alliance had precious few vehicles to spare. So Lieutenant Vega took it upon himself to go hiking through the ruins of the city until he found a vehicle to fit the purpose. The sad thing sputtered along valiantly at a sedate forty miles an hour and nothing Shepard did would coax it to go faster. Wretched car.

Kaidan was nodding off in the passenger seat beside her. Rising early never came easy to him, no matter how much practice he acquired. Granted, the little sleep he got last night hardly qualified as a nap, and that surely wasn't helping matters.

Still, it wouldn't do to have him arrive in a mental fog. She prodded his shoulder. "Hey. Stay with me."

He made an unhappy little sound and sat up a bit, rubbing his eyes. "Are we there?"

"Almost. Another few miles."

"Right." He shuffled further up in the seat and fumbled in his pocket for a bottle of pills, swallowing two. Seeing her concerned look, he shook his head. "It's just going to be one of those days. I can feel it coming already. I'll be fine."

Shepard frowned. "I thought they were getting better. What else is the point of that nasty tea?"

"Better isn't the same thing as cured." Kaidan nodded towards the window. "Make a left here."

"I know where I'm going." She banked the car, bemused.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I rescind all offers of help."

Shepard smiled quietly. "I like your help." She paused, bit her lip. "Look, I'm not used to being on the friends and family side of this, and I don't do mushy well, but just… try not to die up there. Ok?"

"I'll do my best." His chuckle was warm, pushing past the tiredness. "Just please tell me we don't have to do a whole song and dance, it's too much like when my parents come to see me off."

"Nah, that's all I got." She smirked, and took his hand, and if they held on a little tighter than was strictly necessary, well, nobody was keeping score.

The Alliance established a temporary launch port in what used to be Green Park. It was relatively open and free of debris from the invasion, making it easy to quickly set up prefabs and landing zones. Right now, it served as official point of entry to the fleet for all of Europe. There was too much unrest, and too few traffic controllers remaining, to allow access to space from anywhere on the globe. Aria's mercenaries weren't the only faction to take advantage of the chaos. It was a particularly poor way to show off humanity for their alien guests.

Shepard skimmed closer to the ground and followed the directives of the rather bored-looking marines funneling visitors towards a guardhouse. They both submitted to ident scans and after only getting turned around twice succeeded in locating the correct launch area.

It might be a bloody station wagon, but Shepard couldn't resist indulging in a flourish as she set down on the gravel lot. Kaidan rolled his eyes, but in an affectionate sort of way. He'd been in a mako with her one too many times to not be resigned to her driving.

They stepped out of the car and stood there for an uncomfortable moment, hands in pockets, neither knowing what to do or say next.

She blew out a breath. "So, I guess-"

"Shepard!"

Brow furrowed, Shepard followed the voice back to its source. A young woman in a rough leather jacket stalked towards them aggressively, with another, even younger woman trailing a few paces behind. As she cleared the morning fog her tattoos became readily visible. Her streak of brown hair was still wet from a shower and pulled into a tight tail.

"Jack?" Shepard was at a loss.

"No, it's your fairy godmother, Shepard." Jack crossed her arms and scowled. "Who the fuck do you think?"

"I see the army put the razor edge back on your tongue."

"Fuck that noise," she replied with something like satisfaction. "This ain't a classroom. Sometimes the situation calls for all the words."

Shepard swallowed her laugh. Jack would think it was directed at her. "What're you doing here?"

Jack jerked her chin at Alenko. "I need to talk to your boy toy. I should've known you'd show up too, after all your bitchin' and moaning back on the _Normandy_."

"Should I know you?" Alenko looked between them, eyebrows raised.

Shepard gestured towards her. "This is Jack, though I think she goes by Ms. Nought these days. She was on my crew back when we were facing the collectors."

Jack put her hand on her hip and stuck her finger in Shepard's face. "That's Sergeant Nought to you."

Shepard lost it. She was shaking with laughter. "_Of course_ it is."

"She's the… biotic you busted out of prison, right?" Alenko said after a moment to drag the details out of memory. Another light bulb flickered into life and he turned toward Jack. "Wait, you were the one with all those kids doing the barriers? From Grissom? That was good work."

"Yep." Jack was all smugness. "My guys are good."

"We appreciated it. You took a lot of the pressure off us during Hammer- pretty much let us get a jump on that banshee nest."

"You know each other?" Shepard blinked.

"Know of, sure." He shrugged.

Jack was exasperated. "Your Alliance isn't exactly stacked with biotics, Shep. Shit gets around."

Shepard turned towards Alenko. "Banshee nest?"

"You and Anderson's strike team was hit the hardest, but the rest of us had the job of cordoning your path, prevent you from being overwhelmed on all sides and holding your rear. Damn brutal fighting. Always is when you're just trying to buy time." He shook his head and glanced at Jack. "I still don't understand why you're here."

Jack looked back at the younger woman for the first time, who was fidgeting with her pockets several paces away, pretending not to listen in. "I got a request."

Both of them folded their arms. Jack rolled her eyes again.

"Look," she said, lowering her voice, "My kids- students- did well. They're shaken up, but holding together. Most of them have headed out to the Fleet already, and I'm on my way later today. I waited around because Rodriguez did more than well, and I think she should go with you. I saw what she's capable of and I know what your squad does."

"My squad trained together for months, Jack. In biotic combat, not shields and academic exercises. I respect what your team did more than I can say, but it's not the same thing." He was firm, but not disparaging, trying to let her down gently. It was the wrong tact to take with a person like Jack.

"Fuck that. You think I don't know what I'm saying? A marauder broke through the line of marines protecting us, and while everyone else was panicking and beating back its troops, Rodriguez darts ahead and manages to take out the thing almost single-handedly. Probably saved all our asses. I don't know one biotic in twenty that could've done it." Jack stared them down.

Alenko looked over at Shepard doubtfully, who shrugged. "If Jack said it happened, I trust her. She cares about those kids. She wouldn't recommend it if she thought it was suicide."

"She's really young."

"So was Ash." 

Alenko snorted. "Younger. And look how well that turned out for her."

"Old enough to make a choice and not regret it." Shepard let the words hang in the air.

He ran his hand through his hair and thought a moment. "I'm not going to deny we lost some people, and their skills aren't easy to replace. But I don't have time to babysit a hysterical teenager, and where we're going there will be some bad things, maybe worse than here."

"She's stable," Jack assured him quickly. "Kept her head screwed on through all the fighting. Threw up like crazy afterwards, but hell, who didn't their first few times."

Shepard raised a brow. "I find it hard to imagine you vomiting after a fight."

"When I was five? Sure." Jack got that spooky half-smile on her face like she did sometimes, like she did when Pragia burned. "I did it into a box under my bed, and when they came to get me the next morning I threw it in their faces."

"Breakfast of champions," Alenko remarked, with uncharacteristically dark humor, catching Shepard by surprise.

"This is why I want her to go with you," Jack said. "There are plenty of units that would take some biotic artillery. None of them understand biotics or what it's like. They'll get her killed without even realizing they're doing it, but it's a waste keeping her back with my guys."

He gave the girl a final glance, making up his mind, and capitulated. "Did she bring her stuff?"

Jack's face lit up. "Eh, Rodriguez!"

The young woman started out of her reverie. Jack pointed off. "You're in. Get your bag."

Rodriguez whooped with excitement, punching the sky, and ran back towards their transport. Shepard couldn't help grinning, even as she shook her head. She hoped the enthusiasm would last.

"Thanks," Jack said, grudgingly, though not without the hint of a smile. "Maybe you're alright after all. Fucker."

He gave the casual insult all the respect and attention it deserved, and merely said, "Just make sure she's on board before we take off."

Jack sneered, and sauntered after the kid.

"She's fought Cerberus before. All of them have. She'll know what to expect," Shepard stated after she left, remembering Grissom, both the bodies of the students and the brainwashing attempts, trying for reassurance. She knew he took it hard whenever they lost crew, and it would only be worse if he thought Rodriguez was unprepared.

Alenko glanced at her sidelong. "They had the school for what, a few days at the outside? They've had Mars for months. _I _don't want to know what it looks like groundside there. I spent over a year of my life tracking Cerberus activity while you were dead, and I can say they probably taught the reapers more about evil and cruelty than the other way around."

Shepard was unable to repress a shudder, Akuze and Lazarus and Sanctuary and the Cerberus base all jumbled together for a moment in her mind. She could recall the weight of the pistol in her hand and she broke through the Illusive Man's purloined Reaper tech and shot him cleaning through his left breast. The circumstances robbed the deed of any satisfaction- the man who orchestrated every act of malice for the past thirty years was all but gone, disappeared by a mess of indoctrinating technology.

She returned his glance evenly. "You still think I don't know them, Kaidan? Because I do."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, I'm sorry." He shivered a little himself, more than the chill of the dawn. "Just when I start to think about everything they've done it's- it's overwhelming. And infuriating."

"Believe me, if I could put my ship in the air I'd be right there with you."

He pulled her into a long embrace, not bothering to repeat any of the things they'd already said. She closed her eyes and tried to imprint the details on her mind, the smell of his hair, the feel of his hand at the small of her back, the warmth of his body. When she couldn't bear it any longer, she took a tiny, tidy step back, a polite separation. It wouldn't do to make a scene. "You better get to your shuttle. They're waiting for you."

Kaidan kissed her forehead and picked up his bag. "I'll see you when you get to the fleet, Nathaly."

She watched him walk away, with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. He was right. This was harder than she thought.

Then, about five paces out, he paused mid-step, shook his head, and dropped the bag.

The next thing she knew, she was pressed against the side of the car, their arms frantic around each other, legs twining together. He kissed her lips, her cheek, her neck, his voice rough and muffled. "I love you."

"I love you too." She tangled her fingers in his hair, undoubtedly mussing it out of all regulation and not caring even a little.

Shepard perched on the hood of the abominable car and watched the activity until mid-morning, when they finally launched, only slightly behind schedule. Then she climbed back inside and started her up, cruising out of the ad hoc base, and used the twenty minutes of navigating the torn-up streets back to the _Normandy _to organize her thoughts.

Upon arriving in the shuttle bay, she found Vega sitting on the end of his exercise bench, ignoring the chaos of engineers and techs scrambling all over the ship in favor of meditating on his iron. He glanced up at her as she approached. "Commander."

She jerked her chin towards the barbell. "Put that up, find a shower and get yourself into a real uniform. We have work to do."

A slow grin spread across his face. "Aye aye, ma'am."

Shepard strode towards the elevator, hit the button for her own quarters, and turned around. "I want you on deck in fifteen."

The _Normandy _might still be out of commission, but it was time she got back to doing her job.


End file.
